


26 Letters

by Night_N_Gail



Category: WordGirl (Cartoon)
Genre: Alphabet, Challenges, Coming of Age, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Love Letters, One Shot Collection, Reader-Interactive, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 74,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_N_Gail/pseuds/Night_N_Gail
Summary: A teenage girl's life is complicated enough when she's a normal high school student who also happens to be an alien superhero. Throw in an awkward romance with a boy genius who also happens to be a former supervillain, and you have… well… MY life.-:-Tobecky Alphabet Oneshot Challenge: YOU suggest word prompts & I write about them! :D
Relationships: Becky Botsford | WordGirl/Theodore "Tobey" McCallister III
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	1. Aftermath

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episode 'Two Brains Forgets.'** _

**Foreword:**

**Whoo! I** **'m back! What year is it? *-***

**Most of my long-winded explanatory notes about the inspiration and structure behind this fic are at the end of this chapter, but there are a couple things I have to cover up-front. 26 letters is a one-year theme challenge I started on FFNet at the beginning of 2018. A challenge I failed, sadly. :( But hey, just because I lost the race doesn't mean I shouldn't finish. ;) Today I'll be posting a chapter each hour until I catch up with where I left off on FFNet, then I'll be posting a new chapter that will be debuting for the first time on all three of my platforms—here, FFNet, and my shiny new Tumblr. ^-^ I hope you enjoy catching up with me as I strive to seize my second wind.**

**Continuity Warning: I wanted the oneshots to make sense even if you haven** **'t read any of my previous WordGirl fanfiction, so I'm doing my best to ensure that any important references to my headcanon are explained, either in the story itself or in the author's notes. That being said, I do recommend reading my previous chapterfics 'Saving Tobey' and 'Time to Go Home.' After all, the main reason I'm writing this fic is that I was so excited to play around with the relationship I'd worked so hard to set up in my previous fics. X3 If you do skip them, be advised that those stories covered several years, and a lot can change in several years—particularly for adolescents. ;)**

* * *

Aftermath [ **af** -ter-math] – something that results or follows from an event, especially one of a disastrous or unfortunate nature; consequence.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

Tobey McCallister woke up smiling, with fading images of Becky Botsford fluttering in his mind. He remembered the day before with jubilation. It had been a dream come true! He lingered for a moment in a state of pure euphoria, but his mood quickly darkened as the analytical part of his brain began to kick into gear. A dream come true…

 _Could it have been_ _… a dream?_

No… That-That couldn't be! He remembered it all so clearly. He and Becky had been sitting together atop a skyscraper, talking and laughing and then… she had told him. She had _told_ him that she felt the same way he did. She had taken his hand, looked him in the eyes, and told him right to his face. He had been so sure that it was _real_.

His heart began pounding nervously. He didn't want to consider that it might _not_ have been—that it was just his twisted mind playing tricks on his lovesick heart—but he had to confess… it was not so very different from many of the dreams he'd had in the past. No matter how many times he told himself that Becky would never reciprocate his feelings, he just couldn't help holding onto a frail thread of hope.

But was it so wrong to hope? Especially now? He didn't want to backpedal on his resolve to practice humility, but—he'd saved her life last week. She'd called him a hero, and long enough ago that he was absolutely certain _that_ hadn't been a dream. Of course, that rekindled reason to hope could conceivably be the very reason he might dream up a scenario like the one he remembered from yesterday…

Tobey swallowed. He wasn't about to simply accept that it _was_ a dream, but he'd had so many such dreams in the past that he couldn't completely convince himself otherwise either. Biting his lip, he climbed somberly out of bed and stepped over to the window. He opened it, and was greeted by a rush of cool morning air and a calming view of his backyard, bathed in soft sunlight.

He took a deep breath, cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, "WORDGIRL!"

It had been a long time since he'd called her like that. The action brought back memories from years ago, when he was still a villain. Becky had suggested that, rather than destroying buildings to get WordGirl's attention, he should simply call out to her and let her super-hearing do the rest. Of course, it had taken a while for that advice to sink in, but it had been the catalyst of a gradual yet enormously consequential journey for Tobey. Since then he'd given up villainy, discovered WordGirl's secret identity, graduated high school, and even started college.

He owed it all to Becky. She'd never given up on him, even when he was at his worst, and it was thanks to her faithful friendship that he was where he was today, rather than rotting in jail or planning his next pointless attack on the city. As he stood there by the window thinking about all this and waiting for her to appear, he wished harder than he'd ever wished for anything that yesterday _hadn_ _'t_ been a dream.

Just when he was starting to think she wouldn't come, there she was, hovering forth from an afterimage of brilliant light. She smiled brightly at him, and Tobey could have sworn she was still glowing. He felt his cheeks getting warm as he stood there staring at her.

"You called?" she said, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Uh," he muttered, shaking his head to snap himself out of it. "Hey, Becky."

He spoke in earnest, without his false British accent. This was a request Becky had made of him about a year ago. It still amazed him sometimes how natural it had become to use his _real_ voice in front of her, even in embarrassing situations like _this_ one.

"Hey," she replied, waving gingerly.

Remembering why he'd called her, Tobey was suddenly mortified at the thought of asking her about yesterday.

 _What if I bring it up and it turns out it_ _ **was**_ _a dream?_ he considered. She'd think he was a creep, not to mention delusional. He couldn't ask her about _this_. What was he _thinking_?

Averting his eyes and awkwardly twiddling his fingers, he fumbled for something to say. Finally he blurted out, "Good morning."

"It _is_ a good morning," she said in a chipper tone. "The weather is great."

Great. He had called her from across town to talk about the weather.

"Um… Tobey," Becky said, glancing off into space and tucking her hair behind her ear, "since I'm here and it's such a nice day, what would you say to walking me home and maybe… hanging out at my house for a little while?"

Tobey hesitated for a moment. "Would I… mind?"

Becky flushed and loosely crossed her arms. "Well, it's just that Scoops and Violet are coming over, and… I wanted to tell them about what happened yesterday."

"Oh, you want to tell _them_ about yesterday," sulked the indignant voice of the Narrator. " _I_ wanted to know about yesterday back when it was _today_ , and you just teased me!"

"You're still _on_ that?" grumbled Tobey. Yesterday the disembodied voice had interrupted Tobey and Becky while they were having a delightful conversation over ice cream. He'd wanted to know what had happened while he was away, and Tobey hadn't been able to resist the fun of dangling such a huge development like a carrot in front of his metaphorical face. Becky had even gone along with it, so he hardly felt like he should feel sorry, especially if the Narrator was going to _sulk_ about it. "If you find it so unbearable to be left out of anything, you shouldn't have gone on vacation! Why shouldn't we get a little privacy once in a while?"

"You know what? I'm not speaking to you anymore," huffed the Narrator, sounding genuinely annoyed but not entirely serious.

"You mean it?" Tobey quipped. "Oh, happy day!"

"Talk to the hand."

"What hand?!"

"Tobey, be nice," Becky gently admonished.

Tobey scoffed, but didn't persist in the argument… And then it hit him.

 _Wait a minute_ _… if that incident with the Narrator happened, then… that means it ALL happened, and… that means… it_ _**wasn** _ _**'t** _ _a dream!_

Just like that, Tobey experienced the rush of realization all over again, and it was just as amazing the second time. For a while, he just stood there grinning as though the expression was riveted onto his face.

"Sooooooo…" Becky muttered, oblivious to his musings, "Scoops and Violet?"

« « « « « ... » » » » »

Becky noticed that Tobey had a spring in his step as he walked alongside her toward her house. They'd flown part of the way, so that accounted for some of it. He always got a little more color in his face and energy in his demeanor after flying. It was a bit different today, though. Today the change in him was more substantial than just a little extra pep. He had yet to pull so much as a screwdriver from any of the myriad pockets of his khaki cargo pants, and his arms swung back and forth in wide arcs at his sides, causing the long, loose sleeves of his blue sweater to flutter about his wrists. There was a _freedom_ , a _joy_ in his gait that Becky hadn't seen in a very long time… in fact, she wasn't completely sure she'd _ever_ seen it quite like this.

She found herself periodically glancing askance to see the blithe smile plastered across his face, more often than not turned toward _her_ rather than the road ahead. When that was the case she blushed and averted her eyes, frivolously wishing she'd worn something nicer than just a pink blouse and jean skirt. She'd gotten used to Tobey staring at her over the years, but in the past he'd been a little more subtle about it. Apparently he was casting off restraint now that he didn't have to worry about his attentions making her uncomfortable. Something about that was just—charming.

 _Huh_ _… Tobey is charming._

Odd how that felt like such an unexpected revelation. Becky was realizing lately that there were a lot of things about Tobey which she liked, but which she had never _acknowledged_ she liked—not until after she'd acknowledged that she liked _him_. Now that she'd cast off some of her own restraint and allowed herself to embrace her attachment to him, she was discovering all sorts of things about him that tugged her heartstrings. In addition to 'charming,' she was now discovering that he was also funny, pleasant, endearing, perhaps even _humble_ … sometimes. With every new virtue she recognized and added to her list, she became that much more confident that she hadn't made a mistake. His past notwithstanding, Tobey was a good person now. She would even go so far as to say that he was a _wonderful_ person… most of the time.

"So, why are Scoops and Violet coming over?" Tobey asked. They'd turned onto Becky's street and her house was in view.

"I already said why, remember?" Becky chuckled. "I want to tell them about yesterday."

"You have to tell them right away?"

Becky noted that he didn't sound the slightest bit nervous or embarrassed… more like he was relishing the exclusivity of the current situation and didn't want to give it up. She donned a tolerant smile, reminding herself for the millionth time to be patient with him. He'd come farther in a couple of years than most people could in a couple of decades; he could hardly be blamed for having not yet arrived. So, she patiently explained, "It's just that Violet knew I liked you and I promised I'd let her know when I told you."

"Wait, _what_? She _knew_?" Tobey exclaimed.

"Yeah," Becky affirmed.

Tobey frowned and looked down at the ground, folding his arms and muttering, " _So_ unfair."

"Unfair?" Becky repeated, confused. "What's unfair?"

"That you told Violet before me again," Tobey grumbled.

Becky sighed and kicked a small rock from the sidewalk back into the nearby pit of similar rocks from which it had strayed. This was one of those endearing yet frustrating qualities of Tobey's which she couldn't decide if she should rebuke or not—a sort of tame jealousy of the preference she sometimes showed to her friends.

"Tobey, I hate to break it to you," she said, "but that's normal. Actually, it's pretty much universal. Like, even weird girls do that."

"Well, it's still unfair," Tobey stubbornly asserted, looking back up at her. "Why do your school buddies always get to find out your secrets before _I_ do?"

Becky almost laughed at his silliness but then realized, with a twinge of surprise, that he was genuinely upset by this. She supposed that feeling wasn't _entirely_ unjustified, considering how hard he'd worked and how much he'd sacrificed to earn her trust. Still, she wanted him to respect her friends, and she definitely _didn_ _'t_ want to enforce any behaviors that smacked even vaguely of narcissism.

She thought for a moment. _How can I encourage_ _ **him**_ _without encouraging his behavior?_

She smiled when the answer came to her. "Tell you what, Tobey? I'll tell you a secret of mine that I've _never_ told Scoops or Violet."

Tobey perked at that, looking intrigued.

Becky leaned in close to him and whispered near his ear, "I… am WordGirl."

Tobey blinked, then met her playful grin with an irritated frown. "Why must you toy with me?"

This time she couldn't help laughing, but she was quick to contain it and earnestly explain. "Honest, Tobey, I never told them! That's what I've been trying to tell _you_. They both discovered my identity on their own."

Tobey straightened and gave a little gasp. "Really?"

" _Yes_ ," she said, nodding emphatically, "and _you_ are the only person who's ever found out my secret identity on your own merit. Scoops and Violet kind of just found out by accident."

One brief glimpse of the satisfied smile that crossed Tobey's face was all Becky needed to confirm that her plan had worked. He was mollified, and she was justified. Win-win. How far they'd come from from the days when they would fight for hours and _neither_ of them would _really_ win, because the fight would start all over again a few days later. Becky couldn't help but smile at the thought. If someone had told her back then that she and Tobey McCallister would actually end up together, she would've called them a prevaricator… and then she probably would've defined it for them.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

Tobey had never liked Scoops—particularly after discovering that he was Becky's one-time secret crush _and_ the first person to find out she was WordGirl. Needless to say, his opinion hardly improved when the dolt's reaction to her announcement was to grin from ear to ear and start scribbling in his notebook like it was a good joke that he wanted to remember or something.

Violet's reaction was a _bit_ more palatable. She'd been sitting on Becky's bed when her face broke into an exuberant grin, and she hopped to the floor and charged Becky with a gleeful hug and even more gleeful squeal so suddenly that Tobey stepped back in surprise. He hadn't thought the girl's soft, wispy voice was capable of achieving that many decibels.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed, clinging to her friend with a fierceness that seemed just as uncharacteristic of her as a girlish shriek had. Without warning, she let go of Becky, turned immediately on Tobey, and hugged _him_. Tobey froze in surprise.

"You earned it," Violet whispered softly in his ear before releasing him, then paused to give him a heartfelt smile before turning back to Becky. The two girls held each other's hands as they squealed, giggled, and babbled excitedly, bouncing up and down. Tobey watched them for a long moment, trying to get past the shock and process how he actually felt about that hug. It was weird to admit, but he was pretty sure he actually felt… touched. To think that this girl, who he'd hardly ever bothered to call by name, had been paying attention to him—enough so that she approved of him, and trusted him with the future of her best friend. She somehow _knew_ how hard he'd fought for Becky, and she actually thought he'd _earned_ this chance to be with her.

Tobey was suddenly struck with an acute awareness of just how poorly acquainted he was with Becky's closest friends, despite having known them just as long as he'd known Becky. That had never bothered him before, but now, as he watched his dear girl sharing a moment of feminine euphoria with her best friend, a familiar twinge of conviction prickled his conscience.

Reluctantly he considered, _I should probably_ _… at least_ _ **try**_ _to_ _… learn to like them… a tiny bit._

His ego complained at the thought.

"Oooookay," the nosy reporter announced, speaking for the first time as he looked up from his notebook. "Let's hear the details!"

Becky turned from Violet, eyes bugging, and she launched into a blushing, spluttering, gesticulating refusal. Tobey, on the other hand, just glared. Perhaps now that he and Becky were a couple he'd need to put a little more effort into his relationships with her friends, but being nice to Scoops was too much to bite off all at once.

 _I_ _'ll start with Violet,_ he decided. _Being nice to_ _ **her**_ _shouldn_ _'t be_ _ **too**_ _hard._

"Oh, come on, Becky!" Scoops pressed in a fun-loving tone. "You know I'm not gonna tell anyone! I just have to get the story out of my system or it'll haunt me 'till the day I die!"

Tobey rolled his eyes, and officially gave himself permission to vent his frustration. "Well, I can't speak for Becky, but that sounds to me like an extra incentive _not_ to tell you anything," he said in an annoyed British accent. He still used it whenever anyone other than his mother, Becky, or Bob was present.

Scoops turned to him wearing a gratifyingly disappointed frown. He bounced back quickly, though, and muttered with a shrug, "Suit yourselves." He turned his attention once more to his notebook and tauntingly added, "I guess I'll just have to use my imagination, then."

He shot them one last playful smirk, then went back to scribbling away in his notepad whilst muttering unintelligible narrations. To be _extra_ annoying he occasionally rattled off some conspicuous proclamation to the effect of, "Wow, you guys wouldn't _believe_ what happened yesterday!"

Flabbergasted, Tobey turned to Becky, hoping for a clue as to how he should react to this nonsense. She was staring at Scoops with an expression that seemed to be hovering somewhere between 'nervous' and 'irked.'

"Remind me again why your nosy reporter friend was one of the first names on your 'need-to-tell' list," Tobey jabbed.

Violet let loose a polite little half-chuckle and averted her eyes when Tobey frowned at her.

Scoops whistled emphatically and continued writing even as he looked up from his notebook. "What a story! Man, you can't make up stuff this good!"

"Okay, _fine_ , we'll tell you!" Becky conceded. "Yesterday I was flying over the city, and I saw Tobey sitting by himself on a roofto—"

"Holy cannoli, stop the presses!" Scoops exclaimed, staring down at his notepad with a look of sheer dread painted across his face. He pointed an accusatory finger that oscillated between Tobey and Becky, and said with earnest conviction, "You two can't be together!"

The room was silent for a moment.

Tobey blinked, then leered at Scoops. "Pardon?" he asked menacingly, clenching his hands into fists.

"Yeah, you want to run that by us again?" Becky added, frowning and crossing her arms.

"Read this headline," Scoops said, holding up his notepad and tapping it with his pencil.

"You mean the headline you _just_ wrote?" Becky asked.

"Just read it!" Scoops insisted, foisting the notebook into her hands.

Morbidly curious, Tobey scooted in next to her to read over her shoulder. Violet did likewise. Becky read aloud anyway. "'An Unlikely Pair: WordGirl's Secret Identity Revealed?' Scoops, what is this?"

Scoops babbled at ludicrous-speed. "If Tobey starts dating Becky instead of WordGirl even though he likes WordGirl and WordGirl _is_ Becky but no one is supposed to know that it might seem kind of weird that he would date a girl who _isn_ _'t_ WordGirl unless WordGirl and that girl were the same person right?"

Everyone blinked.

"Could you… repeat that?" whispered Violet.

"Only slow enough for human comprehension?" added Tobey.

"And with pauses so I can visualize some punctuation?" offered Becky.

Scoops gave an exasperated huff, as though it was _their_ fault he was a babbling buffoon. "Here's the thing," he said, straightforward and undeterred, "back when Tobey was a villain, everyone knew he had a huge crush on WordGirl."

Tobey was so taken off guard by the accusation that his denial plunged back down his throat, and it took a moment of stuttering and grasping for words before he was able to retrieve it. "Why—Why that's preposterous! I wasn't—!"

"EVERYONE knew you had a huge crush on WordGirl," insisted the Narrator.

"Oh, _now_ you're talking to us!" Tobey blustered at the ceiling.

"He's right, though," Violet agreed.

Tobey blinked, feeling his face go warm as he stood speechless before this unexpected inquisition.

Tobey turned to Becky, hoping that at least _she_ hadn't read his ten-year-old self like an open book. Unfortunately, she had already turned her attention back to Scoops. "Okay, so everyone knew Tobey liked WordGirl. So what? Why is that such a huge problem that we 'can't be together?'"

"Read the article," Scoops said.

Tobey grit his teeth and resumed following along over Becky's shoulder as she read aloud. "'As any reporter can tell you, people have always been hopelessly drawn to the pursuit of examining one another's love lives, and by far the _most_ hopeless example of this in recent history is an unexpected twist in the story of the infamous Theodore Tobey McCallister."

That was the end of the page. Tobey glanced up at Becky for just a second and watched her turn to the next one with a puzzled frown. "'His short yet eventful career as one of the city's foremost villains would be enough to make him stand out in anyone's mind, but heaven knows that isn't actually what we all remember him for. Considering the lengthy and morbidly fascinating game of cat-and-mouse that played out between McCallister and his diametrically opposed love interest,"—Becky turned the page and seamlessly continued, her voice beginning to sound nervous—"it's hard not to compare the girl who he pursued for years with the girl who he's suddenly decided to settle down with. Despite what seems at first like a staggering gap between them, one can't help but notice a few shocking similarities.'"

The 'article' ended there. The rest of the page was filled with a large, circled question mark.

Holding his breath, Tobey turned once more to look at Becky. She looked worried.

"Wow, Scoops," Violet murmured, sounding impressed. "You wrote all that in two minutes?"

"Sure did!" Scoops affirmed. "I've gotta say, for a joke article, it actually came out pretty—"

"Not the time, you two!" Becky snapped, flashing her friends a serious frown. She was still holding Scoops's notepad, and the pages had begun to crinkle in her grip.

Tobey swallowed, too aghast to muster up his usual annoyance at Becky's friends. He wanted to. Oh, he wanted so badly to _hate_ Scoops for bringing this issue to light, but he couldn't. It wasn't Scoops's fault. It was _his_.

"You're right," Becky said, her voice heavy with despair as she vocalized the thoughts already haunting Tobey's mind. "If Tobey and I start dating, people will wonder what happened to his crush on WordGirl… and my secret identity will be exposed."

Tobey stared at Becky's hopeless expression and balled his hands into fists in frustration. To think that after everything he'd done to win her over, his past was _still_ threatening to come between them. It wasn't fair.

"Don't worry, Becky," Violet said, stepping forward and taking her friend steadily by the shoulders. "There's always a way to make things work."

"She's right," said Scoops. "This doesn't _actually_ mean you two can't be together, it just means you'll need a good cover story for your relationship, that's all."

Relief washed over Tobey, and for a brief moment, he actually _liked_ Scoops… a tiny bit. The young couple sighed deeply in unison, and in spite of the weighty situation, Tobey felt a selfish little thrill that Becky had been just as worried as he'd been.

After taking a deep breath, Becky softly murmured, "Okay, so we need a cover story… I guess now we just need to figure out what it should be."

Scoops lit up with excitement and took back his notebook from her. "Leave that to me!" he said, brandishing his pencil with a flourish.

« ... »

So there they were. Four teenagers sitting in a circle on the floor in Becky's room trying to figure out how to maneuver public speculation around a clandestine romance between a superhero and a former villain. Tobey couldn't decide whether he should feel amused or doomed.

"Okay, let's see," Scoops announced, smiling enthusiastically with his pencil in hand and his notebook waiting in his lap. "So we need an explanation that allows Becky and Tobey to date each other _without_ making it obvious that Becky and WordGirl are the same person." He picked up his notebook and started writing, but didn't stop talking. "Personally, I think the simplest solution would be to keep Becky Botsford out of it and have Tobey and WordGirl get together."

"What?" Becky exclaimed, sounding surprised and perhaps even bit offended.

"It fixes everything," Scoops explained matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't have to worry about your secret identity being threatened because your secret identity wouldn't even be part of the equation!"

"Huh," Tobey muttered, surprised by his own reaction. "I can hardly believe I'm saying this, Scoops, but… that's not a terrible idea."

"But I don't want to be your girlfriend as WordGirl!" protested Becky.

"Why not? You _are_ WordGirl."

"But the press would have a _field day_ with that!"

"Well, of _course_ they would! It's a great story," Scoops agreed, exuberantly spreading a hand across his field of view as he hypothetically read, "'WordGirl Has Finally Met Her Match!'" He looked at the others with an expectant smile, hand still in the air, and said, "Get it?"

Becky blinked a withering grimace at him.

Tobey thought it best not to say anything, but once again, he found himself kind of liking Scoops's idea. At the very least, he didn't see why Becky took such issue with it.

"Let me try that again," Becky said, "The press would have a field day with that at the expense of my ability to go _anywhere_ as WordGirl without getting barraged by annoying questions!"

Tobey wilted and reluctantly admitted, "I suppose you have a point there."

"Not to mention you'd always have to hide your relationship when Becky _isn_ _'t_ WordGirl," Violet inserted, looking at Tobey as she added, "You could never hold her hand, or say sweet things to her, or express any kind of obvious affection for her except when she's in costume as WordGirl and probably busy fighting crime."

Tobey blinked at her, then immediately rounded on Scoops. "In that case, I take it back, Scoops, that is a _terrible_ idea!"

Scoops looked a bit disappointed but shrugged it off quickly. "Okay then. It's _your_ love life on the line," he muttered as he tore off the paper, crumpled it up, and threw it over his shoulder.

A loud chimp-like screech called everyone's attention to the window, where Bob climbed into view, looking indignant. He hopped into the room and clambered over to Becky, chittering and squawking in monkey-speak.

"Oh, my goodness, Huggy, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I must've accidentally left you behind when—" She cut herself off, looking suddenly confused. "Wait, I didn't forget you this time, did I? I don't remember leaving you anywhere…"

"Oh, actually it was the writer this time," said the Narrator. "She forgot to write him into the scene until now."

Bob glowered and shook his fist at the ceiling.

"Well, hey, you're here now," said Becky encouragingly as she put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Wanna help us brainstorm? We're trying to come up with a cover story so that Tobey and I can be together without putting WordGirl's identity in jeopardy."

His bad mood vaporized in an instant and he clapped his hands, grinning and chirping what sounded like an affirmative.

Tobey shook his head in surprise. "Wait, he knows about us?"

"Of course," said Becky. "I told him as soon as I got home last night."

"Yeah, that's how _I_ found out," grumbled the Narrator. "Apparently _I_ wasn't important enough to tell in person, but the monkey sidekick was. It's not like it matters if the _Narrator_ doesn't know what's going on, right?"

"Oh, will you _drop_ it already?" Tobey huffed, folding his arms in annoyance.

Bob squeaked in Tobey's direction and gave him a thumbs-up.

Becky translated, "He says congratulations."

"Why, thank you, _Bob_ ," Tobey said. "Nice to know that _someone_ around here can act sportsmanlike after being forgotten."

"Humph," muttered the Narrator.

"Do you have any ideas about this dilemma, Bob?" Violet asked.

The monkey frowned in thought for a moment, then raised a finger and babbled a surprisingly short explanation. Becky made a bewildered face and then proceeded to interpret. "He says, 'Tobey slips on a banana peel and Becky saves him from falling in a puddle.'"

Tobey stared incredulously at Bob's smiling face. "That's it?"

"Yep," said Becky.

Scoops grimaced and tactfully said, "I… don't think the general public would be satisfied by that explanation."

The door opened, admitting Becky's father holding a tray full of food. "Knock, knock," he greeted happily, though Tobey noted that he hadn't _actually_ knocked. "Who's hungry? I brought Snappy Snaps and cheese logs."

Huggy shrieked excitedly and snatched the tray from him, then set it down on the floor and sat in front of it, attacking the snacks with gusto.

"So, what're you kids up to?" asked Mr. Botsford.

"Becky and Tobey are dating!" Scoops blurted out.

Bob froze and dropped a cookie that had been on its way to his mouth.

Tobey's eyes flew to Scoops in furious surprise. "Excuse me, _Todd_ , but could you be any more maladroit?!"

Mr. Botsford gasped. "They're _dating_?!"

Becky leaped to her feet and said in a panic, "Dad, I can expl—"

"Oh, wow! It's finally happened." Mr. Botsford babbled, smiling and clutching both hands to his face in excitement. "I've got to go tell your mother!"

"Wait, Dad, don't—!"

"Bye, kids," Mr. Botsford said with a chipper wave, completely ignoring Becky's protest. He danced out the door and slammed it behind him. For a dumbstruck moment, Becky just stood there staring at the door, unmoving.

Tobey slowly turned his eyes back to Scoops, seething in silence. Fortunately Mr. Botsford hadn't seemed _upset_ by the news, but still… that was _not_ how he'd wanted Becky's parents to find out about this.

Out of nowhere Violet innocently asked, "What does 'maladroit' mean?"

"It means—" Becky began, but Tobey cut her off.

"Please, allow _me_." He glared at Scoops and reproachfully defined, "It means doing something without any skill or tact, like a thoughtless, bungling imbecile."

Becky turned on Tobey, frowning and crossing her arms as she returned to her seat. "You know, Tobey," she reprimanded, "there's an art to defining words without making them sound mean."

Tobey groaned and flopped backward onto the floor, but didn't argue. "Let's just get back to business, shall we?"

Scoops was evidently way ahead of him, as Tobey could hear him scribbling on his notebook.

"How aboooooout," he drawled with a sparkle of new inspiration in his voice, "WordGirl goes _public_ with her secret identity?!"

"What?!" Becky blasted in disgruntled amazement. "When was that _ever_ an option?"

"Oh, come on, it might not be so bad," spurred Scoops. "Other superheroes have done it."

Tobey was still lying on the floor facing the ceiling, but he still rolled his eyes. To make sure his feelings got through, he sardonically muttered, "Fictitious superheroes from ridiculous television programs, perhaps."

Becky exhaled loudly and went quiet for a moment, as though composing herself. Then she said with restraint in her tone, "Look, Scoops, we've already been over this. There are about a _million_ reasons why I can't go the 'reveal my identity to the world' route. To give a random example, that route is a paparazzi explosion that would ruin my life!"

Tobey rolled his head to get a look at Scoops, who answered Becky with a reluctant nod and tore off the paper, crumbling it up as he muttered, "Okay, that's a 'no' on the identity reveal."

Tobey rolled his head the other way to look at Becky, and she met his eyes with an incredulous expression that matched his own feelings. Nice to know they were on the same page about _some_ things.

Bob grabbed a cheese log and happily gobbled it up.

Tobey shook his head and decided to channel his flustered energy into constructive thinking. It was about time this snafu saw an idea from someone who had some sense. "Here's a thought. We could—"

The door flew open with a bang, Tobey bolted upright, and Mrs. Botsford came screaming into the room… literally.

"Oh, Becky, I'm so HAPPY for you!" She swept her daughter off the floor and bound her up in a very uncomfortable-looking bear hug.

"Uh… Thanks, Mom," Becky muttered—with some difficulty by the sound of it. "You're not… surprised?"

"Surprised?" Mrs. Botsford chuckled. "Oh, sweetheart, I've been trying to pair you two off for _months!_ "

Tobey gaped at her. On sheer, mindless impulse, he loudly asked, "Why?!"

The idea that Sally Botsford had actually _wanted_ this turn for Becky was so bizarre that Tobey's mind was repelled by it, even as his heart rejoiced. It wasn't as though he'd wanted the woman to be against him, but in all honesty, it's what he would've expected. Surely a mother like her would want better for her daughter than a troubled boy who used to destroy buildings for fun. Why on Earth would she _try_ to pair them off?

He immediately felt stupid for asking, though, and blushed accordingly as Becky and her mother both turned their heads to look at him—the former with pity, the latter with surprise. Mrs. Botsord still had Becky all wrapped up in her arms, but in response to Tobey's outburst she actually released her daughter and came over to _him_. Tobey tensed as she crouched down in front of him, irrationally afraid of what she might say. She looked into his eyes from less than an arm's length away and placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

"Because I know your mother very well," she said, smiling tenderly. "And your mother knows _you_ far better than you realize, Tobey."

She gave him a meaningful wink and affectionately brushed aside his bangs with her fingers like his own mother might. Tobey could only stare dumbfounded back at her, too stunned to even _move_ , let alone speak.

The woman rose to her feet and quietly withdrew, and Tobey only now noticed the rest of Becky's family standing in the doorway of the room. Mr. Botsford was smiling fondly with unfocused eyes, hands resting on the shoulders of the 11-year-old boy in front of him. TJ, as a point of contrast, glared directly at Tobey with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"We'll leave you all alone now," Becky's mother said, having made her way to her husband's side.

"Just so long as we get the whole scoop later," stipulated her father, pointing at Becky for emphasis.

"Don't worry," said Scoops, holding up his notebook. "It's all being meticulously documented."

"Even the maladroit parts," Violet added with a smile, pointing at the pile of crumpled-up papers.

"Good man," Mr. Botsford said, winking at Scoops, and with that, the parents left. TJ remained just long enough to make the 'I'm watching you' gesture at Tobey before an adult hand grabbed his arm and dragged him off.

Tobey stared at the open door until Bob got up and closed it. Even then, it was a little while before he could pry his eyes away. First that hug from Violet and now this unfathomably warm acceptance by Becky's parents? He was actually _grateful_ that TJ had shown him the appropriate disdain, otherwise he might've started to reconsider the possibility that he was dreaming.

"So, what was your idea, Tobey?" asked Scoops.

Tobey snapped back to reality upon hearing his name and distantly muttered, "Hmm? What?"

"Your idea," Scoops repeated, notebook at the ready. "Do you remember what it was?"

"Oh! Right. I was going to suggest that we keep the whole thing a secret. I could make us some robotic disguises for when we're together in public so that no one can recognize us."

"Thanks but no thanks, Tobey," Becky said with an appreciative smile. "It's hard enough maintaining _one_ secret identity."

Tobey put a loose fist to his chin, thinking hard. "Well… what if I built you a _special_ robot disguise that makes you look like Becky whenever you're WordGirl and WordGirl whenever you're Becky?"

Becky's appreciative smile vanished. She slowly turned her head away from Tobey and stared blankly into space, while everyone else stared right at him looking gobsmacked.

"I've got it!" Becky suddenly announced, clapping her hands together.

"What is it?" Scoops asked, ripping off the page that presumably contained Tobey's contribution.

Becky smiled at her audience and explained dramatically, as if narrating a written script. "Tobey is sitting in the car one day thinking about WordGirl and how much he's grown and matured since he first started to like her. Suddenly it dawns on him that he hasn't seen much of her since he stopped being a villain, and to his surprise, he realizes that he hasn't even missed her much."

Becky tensed as if preparing to pounce on something and started talking faster and more seriously. "While he's mulling over these thoughts, a malfunctioning vehicle spins out of control and hits the car he's in, causing it to veer off course and collide with a telephone pole."

Violet gasped, as though she were listening to a true account. One hand flew to her mouth. "Poor Tobey!"

Tobey slowly turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised. Beside him, Scoops was silently taking notes.

"He wakes up in the hospital," continued Becky, "and the attending nurse explains to him that the injuries he sustained in the crash were so bad that they didn't think he would make it. Being confronted all at once by the fragility of life and the miracle of his survival has a sobering effect on Tobey, and he resolves to spend his time in the hospital reflecting on his life. During his long, slow recovery, he is periodically visited by Becky Botsford, a concerned longtime friend of his."

Violet took in a breath of awe. "Ooooh…"

Bob was gobbling down Snappy Snaps like so much buttered popcorn as he watched Becky, completely enthralled.

Becky raised a hand to her heart, pouring even more feeling into her voice. "He is touched by her kindness and finds himself thinking back on all the time they spent together in the past and how much he's always enjoyed her company. It isn't long before he starts missing her when she isn't there—far more than he ever missed WordGirl." A rosy blush colored her cheeks as she launched into her climax. "Then, in a moment of clarity, he realizes that the one he cares for _isn_ _'t_ WordGirl. It never was. WordGirl was just a convenient celebrity for him to divert feelings that he didn't know how to process."

She closed her eyes, smiling tenderly, and added the final touch. "But now, he's old enough and wise enough to accept that Becky is the one he's loved all along."

Becky opened her eyes and looked expectantly at her friends.

"Not bad," said Scoops, still working on his notes. "It would need some tweaks, but I could definitely work with that."

"It was beautiful," Violet complimented in a shaky voice with shimmering eyes that somehow looked twice their usual size.

"Seems a little convoluted, don't you think?" said the Narrator.

Becky frowned and crossed her arms. " _No_ , convoluted means extremely complicated or hard to follow."

"And… you don't think your story was like that at all?"

"Nope. Not at all," Becky said with a confident shake of her head.

After a brief pause, the Narrator said, "Ooookay, then."

Becky huffed and turned with a smile to the boy in question. "What do _you_ think, Tobey?"

Tobey wasn't looking at her. To be honest, he had barely been listening. Instead, he was counting on his fingers all the details he needed to remember in order to pass off this story. He had run out of fingers.

"Um… hold on," he muttered, "So… I realize I love Becky because I miss her more than WordGirl during a long period in which I'm hospitalized after a horrible accident which nearly kills me in the middle of a soul-searching moment and… Wait… It was a _car_ accident—Is my mom okay?"

"Uh… _yeah_." Becky said with a nod, looking disappointed by his summary of her story.

"Oh," Scoops said with a slight grin. "Ha! I almost forgot Tobey would actually need to remember all that."

"For the rest of his life, I might add," the Narrator pointed out.

"Not to mention we'd have to get his mom in on the plan," added Scoops, "being that she would've been the one driving the car and all."

"Well, we might not _have_ to," said Becky with a forced hopeful tone.

The room was quiet for a moment as everyone stared at her. Finally Violet quietly said, "I think we would _have_ to."

"Okay, just to be clear," Tobey cut in, "we're staking WordGirl's secret identity on my mother's ability to accurately recall something that didn't happen."

"Only for the rest of her life, though," the Narrator persisted. "No big deal. Certainly not convoluted at all."

The room went quiet again, and there was a feeling of finality to the silence.

Scoops broke it by ripping a few pages from his notepad and crumpling them up as he regretfully murmured, "Shame… I was actually looking forward to publishing that story."

He morosely tossed the paper ball onto the pile, looked at the snack tray with only a single cheese log left on it, and immediately perked up. "Wait! How about this? WordGirl is locked in yet another epic battle with Dr. Two-Brains! He blasts his cheese ray at her, but Tobey jumps in the way to save her—"

"And I get turned into cheese?" Tobey cut in.

Scoops ignored him. "But THEN Becky jumps out in front of Tobey to save _him_ —"

"And _I_ get turned into cheese?" Becky cut in this time.

The Narrator condescendingly quipped, "This is getting cheesier by the minute."

"No one gets turned into cheese!" Scoops yelled. "But Tobey is so touched that Becky was willing to risk her life for him, he renounces his crush on WordGirl and falls for Becky instead!"

Bob smiled and piped in with an enthusiastic series of squeals. Becky promptly translated, "He wants to know if he can be the one who disables the cheese ray."

"Sure, Bob," said Violet.

Tobey spun on her and quickly amended, "No, not 'sure, Bob' because that's _not_ going to happen!"

"Oh, come on! It's a great story," Scoops playfully insisted. "It's got action, suspense, drama, _and_ Dr. Two-Brains! Just think of how cool it would look in the newspaper!"

"Scoops, you do realize that Dr. Two-Brains _reads_ the newspaper?" Becky pointed out.

Scoops deflated instantly and mumbled, "Oh… I didn't think about that."

"Do you think about _anything_?" asked Tobey.

"Well, how about this instead?" Scoops barreled forward, undeterred. "Mr. Big creates an amnesia ray!"

"Wouldn't that cause the same newspaper problem from the Dr. Two-Brains idea?" asked Violet, noting something relevant for once.

"Aha!" Scoops exclaimed, pointing dramatically. "It _would_ , if we didn't use the amnesia ray _itself_ to explain why Mr. Big can't remember what happened! Huh? Huh?"

Becky fixed a baffled stare on him and enigmatically murmured, "Wow."

Scoops continued without missing a beat. "So Mr. Big tries to shoot WordGirl with the amnesia ray, but Tobey jumps in the way to save her, and it erases his memories! Since he doesn't even know who WordGirl _is_ anymore, he can't exactly have a crush on her, can he? But then _Becky_ steps in and helps him put his life back together after he lost all his memories, so he naturally falls for her instead!"

Tobey wasted no time in tearing this new travesty to shreds. "Then wouldn't I have to pretend I have amnesia for the rest of my life?"

"That shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Tobey glared at him, biting his tongue for Becky's sake.

"It's a good thought, Scoops," Violet said patiently, "but maybe we should avoid any ideas that would force Tobey to fake an important part of his personality for his whole life."

"He could handle it," Scoops asserted with a flick of his wrist. "He's already faked a British accent for his whole life."

Tobey glared at him even harder, and this time he _didn_ _'t_ hold his tongue. Becky would understand. "You know what? Just for that, I absolutely _refuse_." For dramatic flair, he crossed his arms and turned his nose up at Scoops.

"But it would be so interesting!"

"Scoops, we don't _want_ to make the story interesting," Becky explained. "The goal is to _keep_ people from wanting to know more about it, so ideally it should be as _un_ interesting as possible."

Scoops threw up his hands in frustration. "Well, jeez, why didn't you tell me that at the beginning?!" He immediately set upon his notebook and started bombarding the discard pile with new paper balls.

Becky donned an amused smile and added, "There's also the fact that Dr. Two-Brains has already made an amnesia ray."

Scoops's hand froze mid-throw and his gaze snapped up to Becky. "Omigosh, _really_?!"

"N-Never mind. Forget it," Becky ironically muttered.

"No, that's perfect! We could actually _use_ the ray on Tobey, and that way he wouldn't even have to pretend!"

The room was filled with the most dumbstruck silence yet. Everyone, even Violet, stared at Scoops as if _he_ was the member of the group who was from another planet.

"He's joking, right?" Tobey said at last, too bewildered to even sound angry. "Someone please tell me he's joking, I honestly can't tell."

Without confirming or denying Tobey's inquiry, Scoops tossed the crumpled paper in his hand to the pile and muttered, "All right, so that's a 'no' on the amnesia ray."

The journalist sighed, his enthusiastic spark finally beginning to wane. "How about this?" he grumbled, "we fake Tobey's death. Then he dyes his hair, changes his name, and stops using his British…"

He trailed off when he noticed the flabbergasted faces all staring at him, and preemptively muttered, "All right, all right. I get it."

He tore yet another page from his notepad, crumbled it up, and chucked it onto the pile, which Tobey noticed was growing fairly large.

Then, for the first time since the discourse had begun, Scoops actually closed his notebook. He heaved a resigned sigh and said, "Well, I'm stumped. Anyone else have anything?"

Fifteen minutes later the whole creative team had given in to the despair of writer's block, and four teens and a monkey all lay sprawled across Becky's floor like beached whales resigned to their fate.

Bob lackadaisically squeaked one last suggestion, which Becky interpreted with matching lack of vigor. "Bob says, 'Maybe Tobey could wear the costume he got from the Lexicon ship. He could be WordBoy, and become WordGirl's second sidekick.'"

Bob was referring to a suit Tobey had acquired during their recent space adventure with WordGirl. It had become a souvenir of sorts. Amazing how fast things could go back to depressingly normal.

"With that defeating the purpose," Tobey listlessly grumbled, "I'd rather just go with the idea of dating WordGirl."

"Which still isn't an option, by the way," Becky noted.

"And that was my _first_ idea," said Scoops, "meaning we've come full circle and still have nothing."

The group heaved a collective sigh—everyone except Violet. After a moment of silence, she suddenly spoke up. "I don't think that's true."

"What do you mean?" Becky asked.

Tobey was just curious enough to sit up and look at Violet, who began twiddling her thumbs on her stomach as she explained. "Well, we might be back to square one, but I wouldn't say we have _nothing_. Everyone's made good points and had some relevant thoughts. Maybe we're just approaching the problem from the wrong angle."

Scoops sat up too and smiled at his girlfriend, his spark rekindled as he picked up his notepad and hopefully said, "You have a new idea, then?"

Violet was quiet for a moment, then spoke slowly, as though carefully stitching the words together before saying them. "Maybe instead of trying to make it believable for Tobey to fall for Becky, we should just explain how… Becky eventually fell for Tobey."

Becky sat up. "You mean like… it actually happened? Didn't we all agree that made it super-obvious I was WordGirl?"

"Not necessarily," Violet quietly argued, closing her eyes as if she were visualizing something. "Think about it from the perspective of the people you're trying to mislead. Everyone knew Tobey liked WordGirl, but no one thought they'd actually end up together. On the other hand, Tobey has gone to school with Becky since they were ten years old."

Bob rose now, and he uttered a thoughtful noise that sounded almost like a purr.

Violet opened her eyes, and at long last she herself got up and gracefully folded her hands in her lap before she warmly concluded, "Tobey stopped being a villain almost two years ago, and he's matured a lot since then. Considering how much he's grown, would it be so strange for Becky to warm up to him?"

"Huh," muttered Scoops. Though he'd prepared his notebook at the beginning of Violet's discourse, he hadn't touched pencil to it even once. "When you put it like that… I think you're right."

"Me, too," Becky agreed in an awed voice.

Tobey regarded Violet with an earnest, reverent stare. "You mean… she would fall for _me_?"

Rather than answering, Violet looked at Becky and smiled expectantly.

Becky blinked back at her, then turned to Tobey and tentatively said, "Well… Yeah, I guess."

Tobey blushed. He was so taken by the unexpected flutter of solace in his heart that he didn't even bother to use his accent when he softly murmured, "I like that idea."

Scoops and Violet both gawked at him for a moment, then they looked at each other and smiled.

"But wait," Becky cut in, forbiddingly raising her hands. She sounded both hopeful and skeptical, as though she was hearing something that sounded too good to be true. "Wouldn't people still wonder what happened to his crush on WordGirl?"

"Not if you _explain_ what happened," offered Scoops. "Tobey's fourteen. It actually makes a lot of sense for him to be letting go of a celebrity crush by now."

Violet chimed in once more with, "It also makes sense that he would fall for a girl who has things in common with WordGirl, because they would be the things he liked about her in the first place. If anyone were to point out any of the similarities between Becky and WordGirl, that would be a perfectly sound explanation."

Scoops, his spark now _completely_ revived, began fervently scrawling in his notebook as he vocalized what he was writing. "So, in summary—Tobey went good, let go of his unattainable crush on WordGirl because he got old enough to figure out that it was just a childish fantasy, and then fell for a nice smart girl his age who he's known for years and has chemistry with."

"And then she fell for him," Violet murmured dreamily, closing her eyes whilst clasping her hands together in her lap. "And they lived happily ever after."

Tobey smiled. _Happily ever after_ _…_

Becky blinked, then grinned. "That… actually sounds… perfect! What do _you_ think, Tobey? …Tobey?"

He'd heard her in the back of his mind, but at the moment he wasn't all there. He was lost in a daydream, imagining a future with the love of his life that required almost no pretenses to maintain. The freedom of it was intoxicating. It took a moment before Becky's voice stirred his conscious mind, and he realized that he'd been staring off into space with a swooning expression.

Just barely managing to remember Becky's question, he instinctively blurted out, "I love it…"

A little pang of bashfulness jolted him the rest of the way back to reality. He coughed and composed himself, switching back to his accent and trying his best to resume his usual confident demeanor as he said, "I mean, yes, I—I think it'll do."

Scoops snorted a partly-restrained chuckle, but Tobey quickly lost the right to be annoyed by it when Becky did the same thing a moment later.

"All right, it's settled, then," Scoops announced. "The cover story is the truth minus the part about Becky being WordGirl."

The sound of his voice was, for once, like music to Tobey's ears.

Bob cheered and snatched up the last cheese log, devouring it in celebration. Even the Narrator seemed to have been wrest from his bad mood as he casually said, "All right. Nice work, you two."

"Oh, thank you!" Becky shouted, abruptly hugging Scoops and just as abruptly letting go of him to turn and hug Violet. "Thank you both _so much_!"

Tobey immediately squelched the little snarl of jealousy that reared its ugly head and chose instead to express the stronger emotion in his heart—the one he had a _right_ to feel.

"Yes…" he muttered with an awkward nod. "Our… sincerest thanks."

It seemed weird to be thanking them, but he truly was grateful. For all his grumbling and contentiousness, they had stuck it out and ultimately rescued him from a mess he'd gotten _himself_ into. He couldn't help feeling a surge of respect for both of them after something like that.

"No problem," Scoops said nonchalantly, putting away his notebook and beginning to gather up the pile of wadded paper balls on the floor.

"Our pleasure," Violet said more elegantly, clasping her hands in front of her skirt like a noble lady. She then turned and joined Scoops in cleaning up the floor. Tobey watched the two of them with newborn fascination, noticing for the first time just how uncanny the contrast between them was. They were so different that their relationship didn't outwardly seem to make sense… but then, who was Tobey to think such a thing? If ever there was living proof that opposites attract, it was _him_.

To his own surprise, he found himself wondering things about Becky's friends that had never even entered his mind before. How long had they been a couple? Did they ever fight? Did Scoops adore Violet the same way Tobey adored Becky?

Tobey marveled. Before today those two had been nothing more to him than a frustrating, unavoidable extension of Becky. Now, he truly saw them as people. Strong, interesting, _intelligent_ people, who he not only respected, but actually liked.

A tiny bit, at least.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

The day after the brainstorm with Scoops and Violet, Becky sat diligently at her desk trying to focus on her homework. It was pretty difficult, not because of the work itself, but because her mind was still swimming with everything that had happened over the past two weeks. Between the harrowing space adventure when Tobey had saved her life and the less terrifying but equally monumental beginning of her new journey with him, Becky was finding it extremely challenging to settle her mind on something as mundane as homework.

A light tapping on the window behind her easily pulled Becky's attention away from her math book, and she turned around to see Tobey waving at her from just outside her window. Thrilled and bewildered, she rushed over and flung the window open. She looked down at Tobey's feet and saw that he was standing on a hovering box-shaped robot which she recognized as the 'Fridgeratron,' a drone which he had built for the sole purpose of scouring the Earth for ice cream. The sight of it made her smile, but not nearly so much as the sight of _him_.

"May I come in?" he asked, his voice soft, sincere, and accent-free.

"Of course," Becky said, stepping aside so that he could hop into the room. The Fridgeratron waited outside.

Wasting no time, Tobey produced a small blue envelope and held it eagerly out to Becky.

"What's this?" she asked as she took it from him.

"I know that we settled on a cover story," he said, his face coloring a bit, "but I thought I'd write this for you anyway. You know, in case you ever need 'proof' to show someone."

Curious and excited, Becky carefully opened the envelope and began reading the letter inside.

_My dearest Becky,_

_I was once fairly certain that WordGirl was the best thing ever to happen to me. Now I am absolutely certain that you were. Without the compassion you showed me when I was at my worst, I would not be the person I am today. You were kind to me when I was cruel, and you were merciful when I was at fault. You were a friend to me when I deserved nothing better than enmity, and I could never thank you enough for the grace you_ _'ve shown me. I believe with all my heart that your words saved my life, just as WordGirl saves countless lives every day. You are more a hero to me now than she ever was before I knew you._

 _When I told you that I love you, I scarcely expected you to believe me, let alone to accept my feelings and give me a chance to prove them to you. I don_ _'t know if I can ever become the person you deserve, but I shall spare no effort in trying, and I will begin by making you this promise. My heart, like my eternal gratitude, is yours and only yours. No other girl, whether from the Earth, the stars, or the heavens themselves, could ever replace you, my angel._

_So, God as my witness, the mistakes and misguided passions of the villain Tobey McCallister are behind me, and they will remain there. I have no desire to return to my past, because you are my future, and words cannot describe how eagerly I await what you have in store for me._

_Sincerely Yours, TTM_

Becky stared at the letter with tears in her eyes, too stunned to speak, and too overwhelmed for a moment to even respire. Tobey's words had literally taken her breath away. Heart pounding, she unfroze with a gasp and looked up at Tobey. He was staring fondly at her with a warm, eager smile.

"See what I did with the wording?" he asked, moving to her side and pointing at the beginning of the letter. "Where it says, 'Now I am absolutely certain that you were,' it looks like the emphasis is supposed to be on 'you,' but it's really supposed to be on 'were,' and that changes the whole meaning! Then I did something similar down here with—"

He stopped abruptly as Becky threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Tears were flowing freely now, and she couldn't repress the warm smile blazing across her face as she snuggled against Tobey's chest. She could hear his heart start to beat faster.

"Becky," he said in a choked voice, "you're crushing me."

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, releasing him instantly. Before she'd completely pulled away, however, he drew his own arms around her and held her in place.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "It's sort of appropriate, isn't it? You 'crushing' me?"

Becky gave a faint chuckle and rested contentedly against him. There was a vigorous passion, yet a respectful gentleness in the way he touched her. He held her tightly and reverently, as one might hold something that was both delicate and precious.

"Thank you, Tobey," Becky spluttered, her voice quavering.

No more words were needed after that, and for a long, wonderful while, they simply stood there quietly hugging each other. For the hundredth time, Becky was struck by the irony of it. She had actually fallen for the same boy who she used to battle with, argue with, and get angry with almost _constantly_.

 _Two years ago, I borderline_ _ **hated**_ _you,_ she wistfully remembered.

Two years… It wasn't even that long of a time. It was absolutely mind-boggling how fast everything could change—how fast _Tobey_ could change when he really had a reason to. He wasn't the same person he was back then, but he wasn't a _different_ one, either. He was still Tobey, with all the same quirks, annoyances, and aggravating tendencies as the Tobey she'd known in middle school. She just knew now that there was more to him than that. His flaws were layered with virtues which he was working tirelessly to cultivate, and _that_ was why she'd fallen for him.

Despite herself and the emotion of the moment, Becky's mind actually drifted off into contemplating her plans for the rest of the day. Right now she wanted to stay with Tobey for as long as she possibly could. There were so many things she'd like to talk to him about now that they were a couple, and all the same old things they used to do as friends would be such a joy to revisit now that she wasn't struggling with her feelings anymore. Even doing her homework sounded like fun if Tobey would be there with her.

When their inevitable parting came, however, she knew exactly what she would do. She would read his letter until she had memorized it, then she would put it away in a special place where she could keep it safe forever, and before she went to sleep, she would gather up all the wonderful feelings fluttering around in her heart, and pour them into a letter of her own.

« ... »

" _Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened._

— _Matthew 7:7_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Holy cannoli, that came out** _**long** _ **! DX I had no clue that idea would take so many words to execute. :S Don** **'t expect all the other oneshots to be that long, people. #_#**

 **-** _**OOC?** _ _**—** _ **Whether I** **'ve done a good job laying the foundation for my future/reformed Tobey is subjective. I can only hope that people who have read my older WordGirl fanfics will understand how he became the person he is in this story, and that people who** _**haven** _ _**'t** _ **read them will give me the benefit of the doubt and suspend their disbelief.**

 **-** _**Forgot to Write Him In** _ _**—** _ **Lol, I haven** **'t done one of those 'breaking the 4th wall' jokes since** _**Saving Tobey** _ **. XP For the record, I didn** **'t** _**actually** _ **forget to write Huggy into the scene. I did, however, procrastinate on finding a place to bring him in until most of the scene was already written and thus ended up having to shoehorn him into the conversation here and there. :} Plus, forgetting about Huggy has been such a consistent challenge for me that I couldn** **'t resist making fun of myself for it. :P I don't know what it is about Huggy, but somehow in spite of how much I adore him, I always seem to forget about him when I write these scenes. *-***

 **-** _**Amnesia Ray** _ _**—** _ **Some of the joke references I made about the amnesia ray probably fell flat if you didn** **'t have the episode fresh in your mind, but I couldn't resist including them. For those who may not know, the episode 'Two-Brains Forgets' was about the craziness that ensues when Dr. Two-Brains discovers WordGirl's secret identity and then conveniently creates an amnesia ray so that he can make her forget she's WordGirl. Guess how** _**that** _ **conflict got resolved? XP**

 **-** _**Theme Song:** _ _**"The Best Thing" by Relient K—** _ **Just listen to it. It** **'s pretty obvious how it fits. :3**

**« ... »**

_**26 Letters: How It** _ _**'s Going to Work** _

**The following is the long-winded explanation for my alphabet-based writing challenge that I provided on FFNet back when I first started this story in 2018. ;P If you just want to enjoy the story, you may feel free to ignore this. It** **'s here for the people who love this idea and want to understand all the thinking behind it. If you're one of those people, thank you for time and dedication. :3 Keep in mind, though, that I've already written a oneshot for all the letters up to 'G,' so I can only consider suggestions for words that come after 'G' in the alphabet.**

 **Have you ever seen, read, or written one of those** **'theme challenges' where the writer is supposed to pick two characters and then write a bunch of drabbles or oneshots about their relationship using prompts from a list? Well,** _**26 Letters** _ **is my first attempt at doing one of those, except I** **'ve personalized the challenge with a system of my own design. Here are the specs:**

 _**Reader Collaboration** _ **— Each oneshot will be based on a one-word prompt or** **'theme' suggested by someone in the audience. If you have any ideas for themes, you can send them to me in a review or private message. From among these I will choose the ones that inspire me with ideas of my own, and use them as prompts for writing oneshots. If you suggest a theme and I use it, I'll credit you once I post the corresponding ficlet. If two people suggest the same word, credit will go to the person who suggested it first.**

 _**Chapter Titles** _ **— The themes I choose will be used as titles for their respective oneshots and defined at the beginning (like I did above with** **'Aftermath'). This is a tradition I've carried over from my previous stories, and anyone who's read them can tell you that I had** _**waaaaaay** _ **too much fun digging up obscure words no one knows to use as chapter titles. I enjoy introducing my audience to words they may not have in their vocabulary, and as much as possible, I would like to continue doing that in this fic. As such, I encourage you to try and think outside the box when deciding on words to submit. This is not a** _**requirement** _ **, however. If it was, I** **'d already be breaking my own rules with 'aftermath,' a word almost everyone knows but one which worked so well for the story that I decided to use it anyway. I might occasionally pick words like 'birthday' or 'loneliness' if they just happen to inspire something, but I'll mostly be looking for words that pose more of a challenge, like 'cynosure' or 'interstitial' or 'hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia.' :P Honestly, though, the words that will generally work best are likely somewhere in the middle. Don't just be totally random, but do try to be creative. 's 'Word of the Day' archive is a good place to look for cool, unusual words.**

 _**Alphabetical Order** _ **— In addition to picking themes that inspire me, I will also be compiling the list so as to have one theme for each consecutive letter of the alphabet, and the corresponding oneshots will be posted in alphabetical order. I also have a naive pipe dream that I** **'ll be able to keep them all in** _**chronological** _ **order as well, but if that ends up being impossible, I** **'ll make a chronological list of the oneshots for the benefit of those who want to read them in the order in which they take place. Feel free to suggest themes even if I'm 20 letters away from the letter, as I'd like to be able to plan them in advance as much as possible. For those of you who want to stay in-the-know about which letters are still available, I will keep a current list on my FFNet profile and remove letters as they become 'taken,' either because they've passed or because I've selected a word in advance.**

 **Here** **'s the link:<https://www.fanfiction.net/~nightngail>**


	2. Badinage

**Foreword:**

**Several people have told me that they have a hard time imagining Tobey speaking without his accent, and I just want to say that I can relate! The only time in the show that he says more than a few words in his real voice is at the beginning of 'Robo Camping' when he's arguing with his mom in the car, and it's hard to program a whole voice track into your brain with so little reference. HOWEVER! I can promise you that once you** _**do** _ **get Tobey's normal voice in your head, it's well worth the trouble. The way I imagine him saying some of these lines is so darn** _**cute!** _ **X3 I mentioned this back in** _**Time to Go Home** _ **, but for the benefit of those who may not have read it, I want to again suggest looking up some clips from** _**Minecraft: Story Mode** _ **if you have trouble imagining Tobey's normal voice. Seriously, just play the video, close your eyes, and picture Tobey whenever Jesse talks. The lines won't make sense, but you'll be surprised how easy it is to match the voice to an older, more mature Tobey (you know, since it's the same voice actor and all :P). If nothing else, you'll have a good giggle imagining Tobey saying stuff like, "People always wanna talk to the guy with the pig…" and "Holy crap, you're all acting like crazy people!" and "Behold, my enchanted diamond hoe!" XD**

**Anyway, the theme of this oneshot was suggested by Ani-maniac494. The story takes place a few days after 'Aftermath.' Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Badinage [bad-n- **ahzh** , **bad** -n-ij] – light, playful banter or raillery.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

There was once a time when Tobey had considered video games to be 'a brain-rotting activity not worthy of his time.' Of course, that was before he'd grown close to Becky and learned how fun it could be to play with someone dear to him. Just the excuse to sit beside her for hours on end was worth it, and now that he was skilled enough to play for more than a few seconds without dying, he was even finding the game itself to be quite enjoyable.

"Go left!" Becky shouted, banking her controller accordingly.

"Acknowledged.'"

"Nice word choice."

"Thank you."

On the TV screen, exaggerated digital caricatures of WordGirl and Captain Huggyface, controlled by Becky and Tobey respectively, were locked in an epic battle with an equally exaggerated digital caricature of the Butcher. Becky had introduced Tobey to _WordGirl: The Video Game_ almost two years ago as an alternative to smashing buildings when he needed an outlet for his aggression. Since then, it had become an unexpected staple of their time together at Becky's house.

"Watch out for the hamburger hurricane," Becky exclaimed. "Good! Okay, activate emergency plan #387!"

"You realize I'm not _actually_ Captain Huggyface, right?" Tobey questioned as he dodged a flying burger patty. Bob chuckled and stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He was sitting beside Tobey watching their antics, both on and off the screen, the way one might watch a sitcom.

"Sorry," Becky murmured sheepishly. "Just jump around and distract him while I tie him up in a telephone pole."

"Wait," Tobey mumbled, "emergency plan #387 is actually for Bob to jump around and distract him while you tie him up in a telephone pole?"

He shot a questioning look at Bob, who chuckled and shrugged.

"Aaaand you died again."

"Oh—bother," Tobey grumbled, turning his eyes back to the television as the on-screen Captain Huggyface disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared back at the level's start point. For the fifth time that round he returned to the fray with a vengeance. The Butcher's energy bar was nearly depleted.

"Almost," said Becky, "aaaaaaaand… GOT him!"

"Yes!" Tobey shouted, raising his controller over his head like a trophy. "I win!"

" _We_ win," Becky corrected.

"Right, we win, that's what I meant," Tobey said nonchalantly. " _We_ win, therefore _I_ win."

Becky gave him a wry smile. "Fair enough. You're getting better at this game."

"Why, thank you! It's to be expected from a genius such as myself." Tobey beamed and tugged haughtily at the sides of his collar. He no longer wore a bow tie regularly, but that gesture was so ingrained in him that he still did it on impulse. It was like his British accent that way.

Becky snorted a chuckle and appended, "I mean, you're still pretty bad at it, but you _are_ getting better."

Tobey gasped and clapped a hand on his chest. By now he'd grown comfortable talking to Becky in his real voice, but when their conversation spiraled into banter he usually switched back to his fake accent for comedic effect. He did so now as he dramatically bellowed, "You've cut me to the quick, madam! Well, I daresay it's far easier to show off in a game when you're playing as the alien superhero rather than the monkey sidekick."

Bob gave an annoyed grunt but continued to munch on his popcorn and made no further objection.

"You've played as WordGirl before," Becky pointed out. "The difference it made was negligible."

"Well, naturally I'm not as good at being WordGirl as _you_."

Becky snorted a laugh. "I bet if you _practiced_ playing this game for half the time I spend fighting crime, you could do something about that excuse."

Tobey grinned slyly. "Are you implying that I should come over and play with you more often?"

Becky folded her arms and leaned back against the sofa, mirroring his smile. "Or you could use the copy I bought you for your birthday and practice at your _own_ house."

"Might I remind you that you bought me said copy knowing full well that I had no game station to play it on."

Becky gave an innocent shrug and pertly replied, "Well, I just figured that a genius such as yourself would have no trouble _building_ one."

Tobey blinked and found no retort. "Touché," he conceded. "Consider your challenge accepted."

Tobey was so glad they could still playfully tease each other like this. It was a practice he'd always relished back when he and WordGirl used to match wits as enemies, but he'd figured it smacked too much of villainy for Becky to be comfortable with it anymore. To his delight, though, Becky still bantered with him and had no qualms about his bantering back. It was a comforting reminder of what she'd told him several times before—that she really did like him for who he was, and that there were plenty of things about him that he _didn't_ need to change.

Becky flashed a victorious smile and then turned her attention back to the TV, letting her controller rest in her lap as she watched the cutscene before the next level. Tobey, on the other hand, kept his eyes fixed on _her_. Part of him could still hardly believe that they were actually a _couple_ now. The rest of him was just too delirious with joy to worry about the state of his sanity.

He reached toward her, intending to take her hand, when TJ came charging out of nowhere and plopped himself right between them—where, it might be noted, there wasn't enough space for him.

"I play winner," he announced as Tobey and Becky sprawled to either side from the force of his impact. Tobey crashed into Bob, who narrowly avoided flinging his popcorn across the room. They all simultaneously shot TJ an annoyed frown. Bob grumbled and pulled himself and his bowl up onto the _top_ of the sofa, where he perched and continued to eat.

"TJ, this isn't a fighting game," Becky said, righting herself.

Tobey sat up and straightened his glasses, sticking to his accent as he impatiently huffed, "That's right, so kindly run along and play with your crayons or… whatever."

He made a shooing gesture at TJ, who glared at him.

"Heeeeeeeeeeelp!" yelled a shrill voice as a pale, panicked man in a green jacket burst in through the front door. "Lady Redundant Woman is robbing Taco Dell! _And_ Bel Taco! _And_ Taco Bonanza! _And_ McTaco's! AND Every location in the city for all _four_ of them! That's 27 restaurants!"

He paused to take in a deep, exaggerated breath and seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time. "Wait…"

"Dude, the police station is like, on the other side of town," said TJ. "I don't know how you keep ending up _here_."

"Oh, sorry," the man muttered sheepishly, and a split-second later he was running down the street, gesticulating wildly and screaming for assistance.

"You've got to be kidding!" Becky moaned, sinking morosely into the sofa. "27 restaurants _simultaneously_?"

Bob chirped what sounded like an inquiry and Becky lethargically said, "Simultaneously is when two or more things happen at the same time. Lady Redundant Woman is robbing 27 stores all at once, so she's robbing them simultaneously." She heaved a reluctant sigh and grumbled, "This is going to take _all_ _day_."

"Aweso—! I mean, 'bummer,'" TJ said, eying Tobey with a sly little grin. "I guess Tobey will just have to play with _me_ for the rest of the afternoon."

"Or I could go home and start building a game station," Tobey retorted, tapping his chin in mock-thoughtfulness. "Decisions, decisions… I just don't know which of those options sounds more appealing."

TJ scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Becky got to her feet and passed a concerned look over the two of them. "Just… try to get along, you two. Come on, Huggy."

Bob put aside his popcorn and hopped onto her back as she changed into her WordGirl costume.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Becky jetted suddenly upstairs and was back in a flash with an annoyed Captain Huggyface on her back and a pink envelope in her hands. "Here, Tobey. This is for you."

Tobey was too surprised to respond at first and could only blink at her. After a short moment of silence, Tobey smiled and reached out to take the envelope. "Th-Thank you, Becky."

Becky nodded, and a delicate rosy flush colored her cheeks. "Well, I'll see you both later."

And with that, she disappeared in a flash of light. Tobey stared after her in a hazy stupor with a warm grin spread across his face. His first letter from Becky! He couldn't wait to—

"Yoink!" said TJ as he snatched the envelope right out of Tobey's grasp and ran off with it.

"Hey! Come back here with that!"

Tobey furiously gave chase, but skidded to an abrupt halt as Mr. Botsford zipped in front of him and stood perfectly in his way.

"Tobey," he greeted exuberantly with a happy smile on his face. "Just who I wanted to see. I'd like to have a talk with you."

Tobey froze, instantly forgetting all about TJ. He swallowed hard and with some difficulty managed to repeat back, "A…talk?"

Becky's father wanted to 'have a talk' with him? Tobey's heart hammered as his mind raced with possible topics—none of them pleasant. He had been so happy these past few days that he'd never even _considered_ he might have to contend with Becky's parents. Was Mr. Botsford against their relationship? He had seemed fine with it the other day when he'd found out, but… that _could_ have been an act for Becky's benefit. Thinking about it more, it made all the sense in the world for the man to have reservations about his daughter dating a former villain. What father _wouldn't_?

"Step into my office for a minute, hmm?" Mr. Botsford said pleasantly. He turned around and walked over to the kitchen table, where he sat down and looked expectantly at Tobey.

 _Your office is the kitchen?_ Tobey thought. He thought better of actually saying it and instead nervously obeyed, taking a seat at the table opposite Becky's father.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" the man asked. "Water? Juice? Tea?"

"N-No, thank you, Mr. Botsford," Tobey said skittishly, nearly losing track of his accent amid the mounting tension.

The man propped his elbows up on the table and rested his chin atop his interlaced fingers. For a long, uncomfortable moment he just stared at Tobey with an appraising look on his face while Tobey shrank into his seat, feeling vulnerable and unworthy. "You know, I never would've guessed on my own," he said suddenly, "but according to Becky, your accent isn't genuine."  
Tobey blinked. _Darn it, Becky, you're not supposed to tell anyone that!_ "Uh…"

"There's nothing wrong with that, of course," Mr. Botsford added with a chuckle and a slight shrug. "What you do around your friends is your own business. However, I would much rather the young man dating my daughter be completely honest with me."

In spite of his horror, Tobey was reminded of something Becky had said to him last year. _"I want you to be real with me, Tobey."_

"Um… All ri—" He caught himself and stopped mid-sentence to clear his throat and switch off the accent. "All right."

As the words left him, so did the last vestiges of security he'd managed to hold onto. Whether by design or coincidence, Becky's father had done the one thing that could have made him feel even _more_ intimidated and exposed. He'd long been embarrassed by the sound of his real voice. It was always awkward when he first started speaking to someone without the protective shell of his false accent to hide behind, but in _this_ case, it was downright nerve-wracking.

Mr. Botsford just smiled at him, either oblivious to his suffering or relishing it, and absently muttered, "Well, I'll be."

An uncomfortable flush rose up into Tobey's cheeks, and he couldn't help but avert his eyes. He shrank in his seat and muttered under his breath, "Was there… anything else?" He considered adding 'sir,' but decided against it. He didn't want to make it any more obvious how completely powerless he felt.

"Indeedy," Mr. Botsford sang, flicking an index finger in the air. He then cleared his throat and adopted a stern frown, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. The change from his usual jovial tone was worryingly clear as he declared, "All right, Tobey. If you're going to date my daughter, there are going to have to be some ground rules, understand?"

Tobey gulped. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or even more scared. 'Rules' for dating her implied that he _was_ allowed to date her… right? Still, he reeled with nervous anticipation. He didn't want to sit there and find out what Becky's father feared he might do. He wanted to bolt from the table, run back to his house, and hide under the bed covers in his room. Somewhere deep inside himself, he found the courage to stay put. He needed to put his best foot forward right now, for his own sake as well as for Becky's. She loved her parents. What they thought of him was important.

"Of—course," he managed, swallowing hard, hoping he'd be able to remember the rules and wishing he had something to write with. It was taking all his focus just to keep from flopping back to British.

"Rule one," Mr. Botsford said, suddenly chipper again. "No eating anything _I_ didn't cook after ten o'clock. Leftovers are always on the top shelf of the fridge."

Tobey blinked. He had no idea how to respond to that, but it quickly became obvious that the man was waiting for a reply. Tobey did so quite awkwardly and with no small amount of effort. "You mean when we're together, or just… _period_?"

Mr. Botsford chuckled. "Good one. Rule two. Never be late for dinner, or there will be consequences."

Tobey swallowed. "Understood."

"Rule three. No calling her Pumpkin, Sweet Pea, Princess, or Beck-a-roo. Those are mine."

"I can call her 'Becky,' right?" Tobey blurted out on pure reflex and could've kicked himself for doing so. The comment smacked of sass, though Tobey had intended nothing of the sort.

To his surprise, Becky's father didn't look angry, or even annoyed. He just thoughtfully stroked his chin and murmured, "I dunno… It's a little close to 'Beck-a-roo.'"

He smiled and winked, and Tobey was struck with realization. "Mr. Botsford, you're… _bantering_ with me?" He'd intended it as a question but intoned it more like a statement.

"I prefer the word 'badinage.' Or, as I like to call it, ' _dad_ inage.'" He paused to chuckle, then happily added, "Becky taught me that one yesterday—badinage, that is, not dadinage. _That_ one is a Tim Botsford original."

To his own sheer astonishment, Tobey smiled, his worry ebbing away. With an inward sigh, he deferred to his usual method of bantering with Becky—minus the accent, of course. "So I can't call her Pumpkin. I suppose I'll have to think of a different gourd to use as a pet name. Calabash, perhaps?"

"Clever," Mr. Botsford complimented. "Though I put some in a curry once, and I don't recall her liking it."

With one finger touched thoughtfully to his chin, Tobey shrugged and said, "Well, I could go with a root vegetable instead. Sweet Potato!"

"Nah, too close to Sweet Pea. How about 'Candied Yams?'"

Tobey grimaced dramatically. "No thanks. Mother made that for Thanksgiving once, and I don't recall liking it."

Mr Botsford laughed. It was a hearty, genuine laugh that set Tobey completely at ease. With a soft little rush of surprise, Tobey realized that he had just made an important discovery. That witty, fun-loving side of Becky's personality which he so loved to engage—she'd gotten it from her _father_. Tobey had never really contemplated before just how much Becky's parents were _part_ of her. It was a sobering thought, considering how completely he'd overlooked them all these years.

Oblivious to Tobey's pondering, Mr. Botsford wiped his eye and mumbled through his laughter, "Oh, boy… I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you, son."

Son. He'd said it casually, the way someone his age might call a boy 'kid,' or 'squirt,' but for some reason, it went straight to Tobey's heart all the same. It reminded him of the missing member of his own family that, deep down, he'd always yearned for, even though he barely knew what having one was like.

Tobey repressed a sudden, irrational urge to jokingly call Mr. Botsford 'Dad.' He doubted his ability to maintain a jesting tone if he did so.

"But in all seriousness," the man said, sobering, "there _was_ something important I wanted to say."

Tobey's smile vanished. It figured that as soon as he realized they were joking things would get serious.

"About Becky—"

"I love her, Mr. Botsford," Tobey blasted, rising from his seat on pure reflex. "She's the most important person in the _world_ to me! I don't know where, or even _who_ I'd be without her… She—"

Tobey paused as he noticed the surprise on Mr. Botsford's face, and he suddenly felt ashamed. He sat down again, face downcast, fingers still trembling on the edge of the table. "I mean—"

"I know, son," Mr, Botsford said. Tobey repressed a little gasp and looked up to see that the man's surprise had been replaced by a tender smile.

"You—you do?

"Of course I do," he said with a little chuckle. "We adults become very fascinated with the lives of kids once we _aren't_ kids anymore—particularly if those kids happen to be our children. Your mother talks to my wife, and my wife talks to me, and now I'm talking to you. I figured it was kind of implied, but I still wanted to give you my formal consent to date my daughter."

For a moment Tobey was catatonic with surprise. Finally, in a soft, awed voice without the slightest trace of a fake accent, he managed to murmur, "You mean it? You're not concerned about… my past?"

Mr Botsford donned that warm, inviting smile once more, and lightly shook his head. "Tobey, Tobey, Tobey…The thing about the past is that the farther back it is, the less it matters. You were a villain _years_ ago. The part of your past that _I'm_ most concerned about right now is what Becky told me happened just a few weeks ago, on that ship out in space. She said that if you hadn't been there to help her, she would never have made it back home. I think her exact words were, 'He would've died for me… and he almost _did_.' Honestly, what better quality could a dad hope for in the boy he entrusts his daughter to?"

Tobey didn't answer—just stared up at Becky's father with wide eyes.

"You told me just now that you love her, and you've already proven it," Mr. Botsford said. "I am more than happy to accept you as a member of this family."

_A member of this family…_

Tobey was speechless. Hopefully, his profound gratitude went without saying.

« ... »

Tobey wandered upstairs, purposeful, but subdued after his 'talk' with Mr. Botsford. Having just been accepted as an honorary member of the family, he just couldn't muster the rage he'd felt earlier toward Becky's brother. He still wanted his letter back, though.

The door to TJ's room was open, and he stepped inside to find the 11-year-old quietly writing at his desk.

"All right, you've had your fun," he grumbled in his accent, expectantly holding out his hand. "Now hand it over."

"Hand what over?" TJ asked, rudely neglecting to turn and look at him.

"Oh, you know _what_ ," Tobey snapped, "just… _give_ it."

This time the little brat turned in his chair, and he regarded Tobey with a mischievous smirk. "Well, if by 'it' you mean the ashes of your mush-note from Becky, then it's in the trash."

Tobey did a double-take. He had considered the possibility that his precious letter might suffer some sort of mutilation at the hands of Becky's vengeful sibling—perhaps a pass with a red correction marker or some other such scheme—but _this?_

"Why you—!" he blustered, fumbling for words. "How _dare_ —?! I ought to—!"

"Oh, would you relax?" TJ said, rolling his eyes. He turned back to the paper in front of him and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "It's on the shelf by the door."

Dumbfounded, Tobey turned his head to see that there was indeed a shelf just left of his head where Becky's letter lay in plain view. He grabbed it immediately and turned it over in his hands, amazed to find that it was completely unharmed. In fact, the seal wasn't even broken.

Tobey looked up at TJ, pleasantly surprised.

"Oh, and on the subject of ground rules," TJ fussed, spinning around and shooting a childish frown at Tobey. "I can't do anything about Becky, but I'd better not catch _you_ drawing little hearts on the outside of your envelopes. That's just gross!"

Tobey blinked and looked down at Becky's letter. Sure enough, there _were_ little hearts drawn on it, and his was warmed to see them.

He looked up and gave TJ a good-humored smile. "Deal."

TJ nodded curtly and once more returned to scribbling away at his paper. "You're lucky I'm not the boss in this house," he snidely muttered, "'cause you're still under-qualified for your position in _my_ book."

Tobey continued to smile at him for a brief moment, resisting the urge to laugh or make a witty comeback, then shook his head and quietly took his leave.

He went into the upstairs bathroom and locked the door, then sat down on the footstool by the sink. His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope and unfolded the paper. His heart pounded as he began to read.

_Dear Tobey,_

_I have a confession to make. I've been purposely keeping you at an arm's length for quite some time now. The truth is, I started to reciprocate your feelings a few months ago, and that scared me a little. Even though we were friends, I kept remembering the time when we were enemies, and I wasn't sure if I could trust you with my whole heart yet._

_I'm sure now, though. I want you to know that I'm through pushing you away. I want to be close to you. I want you to be part of my life. I want you to get along with my family and friends, and I want them to like you. I want to get to know you better and better, until someday I'm able to properly express how important you've become to me._

_In the meantime, I want us to keep writing each other. I love having your words on paper, where I can read them as often as I want and keep them safe forever. It's just a hunch, but I'm betting you feel the same way._

_Sincerely, Becky_

Tobey read the letter five or six times before he could put it back in its envelope. Then he just sat there for a long moment, leaning back against the cabinet below the sink, holding the little paper bundle tenderly in his hands.

He could hardly believe how fortunate he'd been these past few weeks. For the first time in years, his future looked completely bright. Becky had _accepted_ him, and on top of that, her friends and even her _parents_ had accepted him. Her brother was contentious as always, but even he, in his own immature way, had accepted him. Not a month ago Tobey thought that any chance of a future with Becky had been doomed for years. Now here he was… living the impossible dream.

As if spoken aloud in her gently reprimanding voice, a single sentence from Becky's letter popped into his mind: _I want you to get along with my family and friends, and I want them to like you._

The words were sobering, and Tobey's blissful smile wavered just a bit. They had all accepted him… but did they _like_ him? He knew _some_ of them did. He knew just as acutely that some of them _didn't_. In the case of one or two, he was ashamed to realize, he had no idea how they felt about him. He wasn't used to wondering or caring what people thought of him, but if there was one thing today's events were teaching him, it was that the people who were important to Becky should be important to him, too.

With Becky's letter clutched gently but firmly in his hand, he took a determined breath and stood to his feet. He didn't know if it was even possible to make them _all_ like him, but may the Lord deal with him, be it ever so severely, if he didn't put in his best effort.

Resolve firm in his mind, he marched back to TJ's room. The door was still open, and TJ was still sitting at his desk. Tobey opened his mouth to speak, then paused, remembering how Mr. Botsford had specifically requested he drop his accent around him. He'd said he wanted Tobey to be 'completely honest' with him. Could it be that TJ felt the same way? Might that be part of the reason he was so hostile toward him? Because he didn't feel like Tobey was being _honest_ with him?

"Um… TJ?" he muttered— _without_ his accent. It felt right, but still terribly uncomfortable at first.

TJ's head popped up from his work, and he turned to face Tobey with a bemused expression. "You know, you don't have to fake an American accent just for me."

Tobey tensed and flushed, but quickly realized what TJ was doing. "Haha, very clever," he drawled, "but you've established that you were eavesdropping on me earlier and you already know this is my real voice, so _there_."

TJ flashed him a snide smile and said, "Huh… funny how even without the snobby accent, you still sound like a snob."

Tobey just smiled. "Yes, well… do you still want to play the WordGirl game with me?"

TJ was silent, and for a moment he just looked up at Tobey with a conflicted expression that seemed to be composed of curiosity, confusion, and intrigue all at once.

"I get to be WordGirl!" he shouted out of nowhere, and with that, he ran past Tobey and out the door. Tobey stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and followed behind.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

Okay, so the battle hadn't taken _all_ day, but it was still a good three hours before WordGirl and Captain Huggyface were able to head home after Lady Redundant Woman's citywide taco heist. As the superheroine streaked across the cityscape toward her house, she worried about how Tobey had fared with her family in her absence. This was the first time she'd left him at her house without her since the two of them became an official couple. The situation had a high risk of awkwardness and/or tension.

"Do you think he got along okay with Dad and TJ?" she asked softly.

Huggy gave a sympathetic grunt, saying he didn't know.

They were nearly there, but WordGirl checked in with her super-hearing anyway. She was dismayed to hear Tobey's voice cry out in alarm, followed by TJ's exclaiming, " _Now_ look what you've done!"

"Uh oh," WordGirl murmured. She doubled her speed and arrived at the house in seconds, then flew unceremoniously through the front door.

She was dumbfounded at the sight that greeted her. Tobey and TJ were sitting together in the middle of the sofa with game controllers in their hands and matching frowns of intense concentration on their faces.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault you were too slow to catch me! I can't fly, remember?" Tobey snapped—in his _real_ voice. WordGirl was stunned.

"Actually, it is," retorted TJ, using a very poorly-executed British accent that surprised WordGirl even more than Tobey's lack of one. "However am I supposed to catch you if you go jumping off the roof like a crazy person?"

Tobey shot him a glare and sharply grumbled, "You don't have to mock me, you know."

"Oh, but it's so much fun," TJ retorted.

Tobey wasn't looking at him anymore, though. He'd noticed WordGirl standing by the door and greeted her with a wave and an excited smile. "Hey, Becky! Back already?"

"Yeah," she said, pressing the star on her chest and reverting back to her regular outfit. Bob hopped from her back and plopped onto the sofa beside TJ, returning eagerly to the bowl of popcorn still waiting for him up on top.

"Have you two been having fun?" Becky asked, smiling with relief.

She strode over to the opposite side of the sofa and sat down beside Tobey, who sounded surprised by his own words as he answered. "Yeah, actually we di—"

"It was miserable!" TJ cut in loudly abandoning the silly voice, thank goodness.

Tobey whirled on him and indignantly bellowed, " _Excuse_ me?"

"Honestly, Becky, I don't know how you can handle playing with this guy," TJ said an insincere tone, pointing sideways at Tobey with his thumb. "He's so bad, I bet _Dad_ could do better."

"I heard that!" Dad inserted from the kitchen. He lifted the spoon out of the bowl he was stirring and pointed it playfully at TJ.

Tobey set down his controller so that he could cross his arms and drawled in his British voice, "Well, you certainly didn't _seem_ all that 'miserable' during the two hours we've been playing."

"We have _not_ been playing for two hours," TJ argued.

"Yes, we have! I've been keeping track!"

" _You're_ a track."

"At least my insults make sense."

TJ rolled his eyes. "Sure. 'Cause talking with a fake accent all the time makes _sooo_ much sense."

Becky smiled as she watched them continue to bicker, a warm feeling rising up inside her. She never thought she'd see Tobey and TJ actually having fun together. Heck, she'd been starting to worry that they'd never get past simply tolerating each other, and now here they were, bantering like siblings or old friends. It was a tremendous relief.

At some point Tobey heaved an exaggerated sigh, letting his arms fall limp at his sides. Becky saw her chance and discreetly slipped her hand into his. She felt him flinch at her touch and met his eyes as he stole a glance at her. She loved how he beamed with joy at even the slightest show of affection from her.

She returned his smile with a gentler one, then coughed softly and flicked her eyes over to her brother. Tobey comprehended at once, resumed the playful argument without missing a beat, and TJ was none the wiser. Becky, meanwhile, just sat there contentedly, listening and laughing as she held Tobey's hand.

"Well, that about wraps things up," announced the Narrator in a British accent. "Tune in next time for another—"

"Oh, shut it, you!" Tobey shouted at the ceiling.

« ... »

_If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone._

— _Romans 12:18_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**-** _**Great Minds Think Alike** _ **— I wanted to give a shout-out to Cyber Rogue, who also suggested the word 'Badinage.' According to my rules, I had to give credit to the person who suggested it first, but seriously, what are the chances two different people would suggest that word? Is there some famous Youtuber or cartoon episode I don't know about that made it famous or something? *-* Anyway, thanks to both of you for your suggestion! It was so fun to work into a story! :D**

 **-** _**'WordGirl: The Video Game'** _ **— Some of you might remember this game from my debut WordGirl fic 'Saving Tobey,' though I didn't bother to give it a clever title until now. :P It was something Becky had Tobey try as a means of getting out his aggression without destroying things. Needless to say, it caught on. ;)**

 **-** _**Yoink!** _ **— You'd be surprised how difficult it can be to decide on an expletive for an 11-year-old to say as he impishly pilfers a love letter from his sister's boyfriend. :} I decided on 'yoink' as callback to a scene in** _**Minecraft: Story Mode** _ **where Jesse (the one voiced by the same actor who does Tobey) snatches something from his friend while adorably and nonsensically exclaiming 'Yoink!' XP Also, I feel I should note that this is the second time Tobey has had an important document snatched right out of his hands. The first was in 'The Robot Problem' when The Coach stole his plans for a potato-fueled robot. Kid needs to learn to hold onto things better… Just like Jesse! *coughinsidejokecough* XP**

 **-** _**Dadinage** _ **— Just for the record, I don't plan to make a habit of using the theme words themselves in the oneshots. My sister came up with that 'dadinage' joke, though, and I thought it was too Tim to pass up. XP**

 **-** _**Calabash** _ **— Okay, if you think this sounds like a dumb pet name, you need to look up a picture of a calabash gourd. They're adorable. :3**

 **-** _**"You're a track."** _ **— I had TJ make this dumb joke in honor of my brother, who got it from my sister, who got it from my other, dorkier brother, who got it from an even dorkier friend of his. Is it just me, or are these lame throwback jokes actually funnier the less sense they make? XP**


	3. Cajole

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episodes 'Mousezilla,' 'Coupon Madness,' 'House Arrest,' 'One Last Sandwich,' 'Mr. Big's Mini-Golf,' 'Dr. Three-Brains,' and 'Meat with A Side of Cute.' …Oh, and 'Mission: Match-Up' from Sonic X. More on that later. XP** _

**Foreword:**

**Originally I posted this oneshot on Valentine's Day, and I found it kind of ironic that I was writing a whole series of oneshots shipping Becky and Tobey and the one I posted on Valentine's Day just happened to be one that was barely even romantic. :P Maybe I'll end up posting one near Halloween that ends up super-mushy. XP**

**The theme of this oneshot was suggested by macook, and the story takes place over the weekend following 'Badinage.' Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Cajole [k _uh_ - **johl** ] – to persuade by flattery or promises; wheedle; coax.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Hey, I finally get to open a chapter!" exclaimed the Narrator, adding under his breath, "It's about time." He cleared his throat. "One portentous day, in a familiar seedy motel on the outskirts of town, an impromptu gathering of the Evil Villains Association is hard at work conspiring to… eat—lunch?"

Chuck the Evil Sandwich-Making Guy hunched listlessly in his seat, scrutinizing a tray full of sorry-looking tacos. He fingered one of them and sighed, his cheek leaning against his fist. "Man, I hate when Lady Redundant Woman is in charge of the food. She always gets all the same thing."

"Why, that is false, incorrect, and untrue," argued the offended villainess who was still setting out matching trays of food at Chuck's table. "I got tacos from 27 _different_ restaurants."

"You could've at least got me a quesadilla," grumbled Dr. Two-Brains, who sat across from Chuck and was digging around inside a taco with his fingers. He added under his breath, "There's barely any cheese on these."

Another clone came along to back up the first and indignantly folded her arms. "You should be happy you got food at all! I'll have you know, comprehend, and be aware that I had to fight WordGirl when I went to get lunch today."

The Butcher stopped in the middle of pumping extra ground beef into his taco, frowning as if in surprise. "Wait, WordGirl? I thought she moved to another planet or sumthin'."

At that, Chuck jumped to his feet. "Oh! That's my cue." He rushed up to the podium and whacked the gavel a few times, briskly calling out, "Order! Order!"

"I'll have a foot-long meatball sub!" shouted a voice from the back of the room as a corresponding yellow-gloved hand shot up.

"Oh, very funny, Rope Guy," Chuck muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway, as I'm sure you're all aware, last month I was informed by WordGirl that she was planning to leave Earth and return to her home planet Lexicon. Well, a few days ago I received this letter from her explaining that she's back and won't be moving after all."

He held up a red envelope with a yellow seal in the shape of a star, and an annoyed murmuring broke out across the room. Some of the villains seemed upset. Others seemed relieved. Still others seemed to be feigning one while feeling the other.

Miss Question scoffed. "You mean after we were all nice enough to suspend our villainous activities so she could have a nice farewell, she's not even _leaving_?"

"That's just rude," grumbled a nearby clone.

"And it's also inconsiderate," griped another.

"And it's also impolite," bellyached a third.

"Now, calm down, everyone," Chuck implored. "Let me read the letter, okay?"

The room went silent as he opened the envelope. He pulled out a single neatly-folded sheet of paper, cleared his throat, and proceeded to read the contents aloud. "'Dear Villains, I'd like to thank you all for postponing (that means putting off until later) your capers and evil schemes while I was preparing to relocate (that means go someplace else). That meant a lot to me, and it made the weeks before my trip a lot easier.'"

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" commented Granny May.

Chuck cleared his throat again, louder this time, and continued with the letter. "'I hope it doesn't annoy you too much to learn that I am back in town, and I won't be going to Lexicon after all. The details are a secret, but let's just say that something went terribly wrong during the trip and the whole thing ended up being a very traumatic experience. To make a long story short, I realized that my home is here on earth, and I don't plan on leaving again.'"

Someone gave a loud cheer. Then all was quiet once more as Chuck read the letter's closing sentiment. "'I hope to see each and every one of you many more times in the future—even if it's only in battle—and I hope that you all feel the same. Sincerely, WordGirl'"

Chuck looked up from the letter to see a hotel lobby full of hardened criminals all looking completely tenderized.

The Butcher sniffled and mumbled through a sob, "That was beautiful."

"Wasn't it, though?" Miss Question responded, holding a hand to her chest.

There was now only one Lady Redundant Woman in the room—the clones had all dissipated as the paper grew soggy from their own tears—and she somberly wiped her eyes. "I was touched… and moved… and also stirred."

Swept up in the emotion of the moment, Chuck raised up his arms and shouted from the podium, "Everyone, do we have the nicest superhero in the world or what?"

The room broke into a cheer of agreement.

Chuck grinned from ear to ear. "Oh, yeah! And now that she's back and we don't need to postpone our evil schemes anymore, I know the perfect project to break us all back into the crime scene!"

"Oh yeah? What's that?" asked Miss Question.

Chuck rubbed his hands together and cackled menacingly.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"The next day, at the McCallister house," announced the Narrator. "Tobey and Becky are sitting in the living room playing a friendly game of 'By Jove, You've Wrecked My Robot.'"

"Red two," Tobey guessed.

"Nope," said Becky. Green three?"

"Ha! Miss," said Tobey.

Becky looked past Tobey and noticed his mother sitting in the corner with an open book in her lap. She wasn't reading it, though. She was watching their game with a soft, endearing smile on her face. When their eyes met, her smile vanished and she turned quickly back to her book.

Becky turned her own attention back to the game, flushing with embarrassment. At the same time, though, it made her feel strangely happy.

The doorbell rang, and Tobey started to get up.

"I'll get it, Dear," said Mrs. McCallister, putting down her book.

"Oh, thanks," Tobey said as his mother stepped out of the room.

"Purple five," said Tobey.

"By Jove, you've wrecked my robot!" Becky announced dramatically.

"Yes!" Tobey said with a victorious pump of his fist. "I believe that ties us up, no?"

"At least until I make _my_ move."

"Hmm. Cocky today, aren't we, my dear?" Tobey playfully accused, flopping over to British.

"Bad company corrupts good character, I suppose," quoted Becky.

"Ha ha," Tobey muttered flatly.

Mrs. McCallister poked her head back into the room, her expression bemused, and said, "Tobey, it's for you."

Tobey looked puzzled, then shrugged and got to his feet. Becky did as well, and they followed her to the front of the house. Becky gasped in surprise when they arrived to find The Butcher, Granny May, Chuck the Evil Sandwich-Making Guy, and Dr. Two-Brains all standing together on the porch, smiling.

The Butcher was holding up what looked like a framed certificate in one hand, and in the other was a plain sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and looked at the paper, apparently reading from it as he loudly proclaimed, "Theodore Tobey McCallister Aye Aye Aye."

He paused, frowning as he turned the paper upside-down and scratched the side of his head. Dr. Two-Brains made an exasperated face and whispered something in his ear.

"Oh, 'The Third!'" The Butcher exclaimed. "That's spelled III? How's that for a weird pronuncification?"

"Just keep reading," Two-Brains instructed irritably.

The Butcher cleared his throat again and continued. "On beehayelf of the members of the Evil Villains Association, I hairabee reward you this cerkifatit of achaivuhment in rekugniteeyun of your five years' service to the cows of villainy."

He smiled proudly while the other three villains stared at him in disbelief.

When the silence was starting to become awkward, Tobey said, "Um… what?"

"I don't even know where to _begin_ correcting that sentence," Becky murmured.

"He wanted to do the honors," sighed Two-Brains, "and we figured he'd be okay if he was actually _reading_ the words." He glared at The Butcher, who smiled sheepishly.

"So much for that," Granny May muttered under her breath.

"Sorry," the Butcher said, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess I shoulda rehearsed."

"Anyway," Chuck cut in, "we just wanted to recognize you for all the diabolical feats you accomplished as a villain."

"Three years, and over _ten_ _billion_ dollars in property damage!" added Dr. Two-Brains.

Becky gasped and Tobey flinched. He glanced over at her with a shameful, pleading look on his face, as if to say 'I had no idea it was that much. Do you still like me?'

"Oh my," murmured Mrs. McCallister.

"That has to be a— _high_ estimate… right?" Tobey stuttered hopefully.

Misunderstanding his hopes, Chuck exacerbated the awkwardness by saying, "Well, technically, you clocked out after four years and eight months of _official_ villain status—"

"However," Dr. Two-Brains inserted, "we found a loophole in the rules—"

"Thanks to you yours truly!" Granny May interrupted.

"Right," Two-Brains articulated, crossing his arms down at her. Turning back to Tobey, he concluded, "And we were able to get you credit for the months before you started terrorizing the city when you were just being a jerk to your classmates."

"I was _nine_ ," Tobey pointed out.

"Believe me, it wasn't easy," said Chuck.

"But for you, kid," offered the doc, "it was worth it."

"No need to thank us," said the Butcher. "Just giving credit where it's due."

Tobey looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel, so Becky stepped forward to try and help him out. "Look, I'm sure Tobey appreciates the gesture, but I really don't think he _wants_ to be recognized for—"

The Butcher gasped. "Omigosh! Tobey, is this your new girlfriend?!"

Tobey snatched a nervous glance at Becky and hesitantly drawled, "Yes…"

The foursome barged in all at once and swarmed Becky so fast that she could scarcely react.

"Well," Mrs. McCallister said, " I suppose I'll go and get some refreshments." And just like that, she was gone.

"Oh, isn't she a doll!" Granny May said, pinching Becky on the cheek. She squinted and mumbled the addendum, "A rather plain-looking doll, though."

"I beg your pardon!" Tobey blasted.

Butcher shook her hand hard. "Congraddleations! Tobey's a great guy! Not exactly a _good_ guy, but a great guy."

"In case you've all forgotten," Tobey grumbled, "I _am_ standing right here."

Dr. Two-Brains put a hand to his chin and looked Becky over with a scrutinizing eye. "I dunno, Tobey," he muttered skeptically, "she seems a bit normal for you. You sure she's not distinctly lacking in… superpowers or something?"

Becky glared and balled up her fists.

"Come to think of it," Granny May observed, "she does seem a bit dull compared to Tobey's last girlfriend."

"His _last_ girlfriend?" Becky exclaimed.

"Oh, you know," Granny May said, smiling casually. "That witty young superheroine with the pet hamster."

"WordGirl was never my girlfriend!" Tobey bellowed, his face flaming.

Granny May rolled her eyes. "Could've fooled me."

"That does it!"

Tobey marched over and started yelling at the three offending villains. Poor stunned Becky quickly lost track of what he was saying.

"Hey, I know you!" said the one criminal being spared Tobey's wrath, and Becky looked up to see Chuck pointing at her.

"No you don't," she insisted, waving her hands in denial. "How could you possibly—?"

"Becky Botsford, right?" he said. "I stayed at your house once while my jail cell was being painted."

"Oh… right!" Becky relaxed and resisted the urge to sigh in relief. She'd gotten so used to having to brush off a connection between her and WordGirl, she'd started doing it automatically.

He moved in a little closer to her and whispered discreetly around the back of his hand, "Soooo… you sure you're all right playing second-fiddle to WordGirl?"

"Huh?" she responded, prickling at the question for reasons she didn't quite know. "What are you talking about? I am _not_ playing second-fiddle to WordGirl!"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't know… Tobey did have a mighty-big crush on her. I don't think I remember him even mentioning _you_ before."

The comment stung. "Well… I…"

"Besides, he can be a bit… a bit… Oh, what's the word? It sounded like 'pickles.'"

"You mean fickle?" Becky supplied. "It means changing frequently, especially in loyalties, interests, or… affection."

"Wow, not bad," Chuck complimented with a nod. "No wonder Tobey likes you. You're a lot like WordGirl. Anyway, yes, he can be a bit fickle. This isn't the first time he's changed his mind about being a villain, after all." He averted his eyes and added something in a mumbling whisper that sounded like, "and it probably won't be the last."

"What was that?" Becky asked.

"I'm just saying, you seem like a ruly, responsible, reliable kid. You sure Tobey is— _stable_ enough for you?"

He pointed a thumb at Tobey, who was still screaming at his house guests. "For the last time, I don't want your certificate of regrets haunting my wall for the rest of my life!"

The Butcher gasped. "Tobey, how can you say that?"

"Quite easily, I assure you," Tobey fumed, arms crossed tightly in front of him.

Presently his mother returned with a tray of teacups. It was clear from her expression that she was concerned. Managing an accommodating smile and a cordial tone, she calmly suggested, "Perhaps you four should take your tea for the road. Tobey and Becky are in the middle of a game, you see."

"Say no more, we'll get out of your hair," said Dr. Two-Brains, turning to Tobey. "But first, I want Tobey to have my March issue of Modern Villain Monthly. I heard you canceled your subscription, but this is one you shouldn't miss. Mech suit edition." He suggestively elbowed Tobey, who just glared at him.

"And just so you know," said The Butcher, waving a sale ad in Tobey's face, "there's a sale this Saturday at Lair Depot. 80% off _all_ robotic compotents!"

"And here, sweetie," Granny cut in, "have a coupon for a free item of any value from any store in the city when you buy a gumball. I printed it just for you." She reached out to pinch his cheek, but he ducked out of the way just in time.

"Well, thank you for visiting. It was nice having you. Goodbye!" Mrs. McCallister said brusquely as she rounded up the villains and shoved them out the door. She then folded her arms just like Tobey, and Becky was treated to the sight of the mother and son glaring together at the door with matching postures and expressions.

Before she could giggle with pleasure, though, the magazine, sale ad, and coupon slid one by one through the mail slot and fell to the floor. To Becky's dismay, Tobey stepped over and picked them up.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"That evening," explained the Narrator, "after their game is over and Becky has gone home, Tobey is up in his bedroom reflecting on the day's strange events."

"Do you have to do that every scene?" Tobey complained, sitting on his bed.

"Don't take this from me, man!" the Narrator said. "It's all I've got!"

Tobey rolled his eyes, but indeed continued pondering his bizarre visit from the villains.

 _What was that all about?_ he wondered, trying to sort through his mixed feelings about the whole thing. Although the villains' visit had veered off into embarrassing and aggravating territory, Tobey couldn't deny that he'd been happy, at least at first, to see them.

He started absently looking through the magazine Dr. Two-Brains had given him, skimming through ads and articles that said things like, 'Build a Badder You,' 'Wreck One Get One Free,' and such. Before long he found himself perusing the sale ad from The Butcher, and his eyes bugged when he saw the prices. They were incredible—a _fraction_ of retail. He bit his lip and struggled with a newfound dilemma.

 _It's only parts,_ he thought. _There's nothing inherently villainous about_ _ **those**_ _._

However, he ultimately decided against it, thinking of how Becky would likely react if she found out. Plus, considering the stigma of his past, it was probably best if he didn't associate himself with anything associated with villainy. Besides, he didn't exactly deserve to get his parts at such a steep discount—not with ten billion dollars in property damage on his rap sheet. He sighed, dropped the gifts in his wastebasket, and lay down on his bed.

"What a day," he murmured absently, closing his eyes.

"Tobester! Wham's up?" a gravelly, inarticulate voice blasted out of nowhere. Tobey yelped in surprise and sprang up to see The Whammer smiling giddily, his upper half sticking inside the room through the open window.

"Whammer?" Tobey exclaimed. "What are you doing in my window?! And did you just call me a toaster?"

The Whammer heaved himself up onto the windowsill and toned down his voice just a little as he said, "Listen, Tobester. The Whammer knows you're tryin' ta go straight, and The Whammer totally respects that." He closed his eyes and paused for just a moment, then bounced right back to his usual explosive energy and added, "But before ya do! How 'bout we team up and wham one last building? YEAH!"

Tobey was speechless for a moment, just staring at his uninvited and quite unexpected visitor. Finally he shook his head and said, "While I'm impressed you actually managed to use your word properly for once, I'm not interested."

He left his bed and moved toward the window to close it, but The Whammer spread out a forbidding hand. Tobey hadn't thought it was possible for his goofy grin to spread any farther across his face. "Aw, wham on, it'll be totally wham! You've never teamed up with the Whammer before!"

"And I regret that even less now that I did two years ago, but in case you missed the memo, I'm not a villain anymore."

"Don't you wanna go out with a wham?"

"No thank you, good day."

He pushed The Whammer out the window and quickly shut it, then watched him head back down the street looking disappointed.

 _What was_ _ **that**_ _all about?_ Tobey wondered for the second time that day.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"The next day," said the Narrator.

Tobey growled and tightened his grip on the straps of his backpack as Miss Question, hovering along beside him, asked for the hundredth time, "Are you _positive_ you're sure?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, YES!" Tobey insisted. "I am completely, totally, absolutely, irrevocably sure!"

The villainess had caught him on his way to Becky's house and had been buzzing around him like a pesky insect ever since. It was taking all his willpower not to pull out his pocket supercomputer, summon his biggest robot, and have it crush her little hoverboard into metallic dust.

"Irrevocably? Don't you think that's a bit melodramatic?" she persisted, much to Tobey's deepening annoyance. "I mean, have you carefully considered the long-term consequences of quitting villainy for good?"

Tobey glared at her and muttered through grit teeth, "Keep talking and you'll have some 'long-term consequences' of your own to worry about."

He turned decidedly away from her, sticking his nose in the air and marching resolutely up the driveway of the Botsford house.

"Oh, this is your girlfriend's house, right?" Miss Question asked, infuriatingly undeterred. "Are you going on a date?"

Tobey had reached the front door, but paused to shoot his interrogator a hot frown. It was none of her business, of course, but he didn't want her presuming things that weren't true. "For your information, Miss Nosy, we are going to the library to _study_."

He rang the doorbell, and it opened almost instantly to Becky's smiling face as Miss Question blurted out, "Ahhh, study date, huh?"

"Go AWAY!" Tobey screamed, whirling furiously on the villainess.

He saw Becky flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"Touchy much?" Miss Question pouted, and with that, she flew away.

Tobey groaned as he turned back to Becky with a still aggravated but greatly softened expression.

"What was _that_ about?" Becky asked, looking off in the direction Miss Question had flown.

"How should I know?" Tobey blasted, turning off his accent and throwing up his arms. Annoyed with himself for answering with a question, he folded his arms and quickly added, "She just appeared while I was walking here and wouldn't leave me alone! Kept asking me if I was _sure_ I didn't want to be evil anymore. I even caught her trying to use her powers on me once or—"

"Look out!" Becky exclaimed, grabbing Tobey by the arms and pulling him inside the house. He glanced behind him just in time to see a beam of hypnosis-inducing question marks collide harmlessly with the door post.

The two cautiously poked their heads out the door and Tobey shot daggers across the driveway at Miss Question, who was poking her own head out from behind Mr. Botsford's car.

"You see? Like _that_!" Tobey barked at Becky, though she clearly wasn't his target, "She just won't take a _hint_!"

"Well, can you blame me?" Miss Question retorted.

"YES!" shouted Tobey. "Yes, I can!"

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky's anxiety must have been showing on her face, because when they arrived at the library Tobey asked, "Are you okay?"

She looked up from the ground and saw concern in his eyes. In an effort to ease his mind, she put on a smile. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

It really _was_ nothing. Why should she be feeling disconcerted, anyway? She was well aware of Tobey's past, and he had more than proven it was behind him. Sure, a _million_ reminders of it were coming simultaneously out of nowhere, but that was no reason for her to be worried… right?

Still, Chuck's words kept coming back to her, and though she wasn't sure why, she couldn't help being unsettled by them.

Tobey didn't look convinced that she was 'fine,' but he didn't press the issue, and they walked together to a table near the nonfiction section.

Becky pulled her history textbook from her backpack and dove right into it without looking up at Tobey. She could tell he was looking at her, though, and he did so for a long, awkward moment while she tried to pretend she didn't notice. Finally, he pulled out one of his own books and they proceeded to read in silence while Becky desperately wished for something to dispel the dark cloud hanging over them.

She got her wish a moment later when Miss Dewey came by and smilingly greeted, "Becky! I wasn't expecting to see you in here for a long time. Weren't you going to study overseas?"

Becky was disoriented by the question for only a moment before she remembered that had been the cover story for her canceled journey to Lexicon. "Oh, right, um… I had a change of heart. I realized at the last minute that I could never live so far away from all the important people in my life."

It was true enough, and she smiled up at Tobey as she said it. He smiled back, and the dark cloud was gone. _Thank you, Miss Dewey._

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that," the librarian said enthusiastically, careful to keep her volume at an appropriate level. She turned to Tobey and said with a subtle wink, "I'm sure _you_ were pretty glad too, huh?"

"Was I ever," he murmured, sounding completely sincere despite his fake accent.

Miss Dewey chuckled and casually asked, "So, what else is new with you two?"

Tobey beamed expectantly at Becky and looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from blurting something out.

Becky smiled, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and averted her eyes. "Actually," she said gingerly, "We're, um… _together_ now."

Miss Dewey's eyes widened and an open-mouthed smile played gleefully across her face. Her fists flew up to her shoulders, trembling with excitement.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed in the most yell-like rendition of a whisper Becky had ever heard. She turned to Tobey and vigorously shook his hand in both of hers. "Congratulations! Becky is a treasure, an absolute _treasure!_ You'll treasure her, won't you?"

"Absolutely!" Tobey answered without hesitation, still beaming. He cast a fond gaze at Becky, and a rush of warm affection swept over her.

_Seriously, what was I worried about?_

"Well, I'll let you get back to your books now," Miss Dewey said, waving as she walked away.

"Bye, Miss Dewey," Becky whisper-yelled after her.

Tobey shot her a playful frown. At a volume easily comparable to her own, he whisper-shouted, "Keep your voice down! We're in a library."

Becky clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud.

"Hey! I thought I recognized a familiar voice," chattered a familiar voice. Becky's high spirits plummeted when none other than Victoria Best sauntered over, wearing a sharp designer outfit and a confident smile. "Tobey McCallister! Haven't seen you around in a while."

It was a small condolence to Becky that Tobey's mood seemed to have soured as much and as quickly as her own. He crossed his arms and brashly replied, "Indeed. In fact, I don't believe I've _ever_ seen you in the library before. You actually read?"

"Of course! I'm the best at reading," Victoria affirmed, apparently missing the insulting subtext of his tone. She flicked her wrist dismissively, jingling a charm bracelet laden with tiny silver trophies, medals, and prize ribbons.

Victoria Best was as annoying as ever, but Becky had to acknowledge that she'd made the transition to high school a lot more smoothly than Becky had. She had a sharp fashion sense and, annoyance notwithstanding, she really was quite pretty. Her confident, aggressive personality had won her the title of class president, which had done nothing to quell her irrational confidence that she was the best at everything. Even the fact that she was a part-time villain had lent her freshman persona a sort of dangerous mystique that had ironically served to make her even _more_ popular.

Meanwhile Becky, as always, languished in obscurity as the mild-mannered bookworm who hardly anyone noticed unless she was in costume as WordGirl.

Life was so unfair.

Victoria quite impertinently pulled a chair over from the opposite end of the table, set it right beside Tobey's, and sat down. She smiled and began twirling the blue ribbon at the end of her side-sweeping French braid. "So, Tobey, I heard this ridiculous rumor that you'd quit being a villain."

"A ridiculously _dated_ rumor," said Tobey with a roll of his eyes. "I quit being a villain two years ago."

Victoria gasped exaggeratedly. "Why would you do that?"

Becky crossed her arms and piped up. "Maybe because he realized that being a villain would eventually ruin his life?"

Victoria looked up at Becky like she'd just realized she was there. With a patronizing smile and a dismissive laugh, she flippantly argued, "Oh, that's just silly! I'm still a villain, and as you can see, I am doing just fine."

She stood and pirouetted to illustrate her point, then stuck a finger in the air and added, "No! Better than fine, actually. I'm doing the best!"

Tobey yawned and curtly drawled, "Yes, well, I hear the long-term consequences of being a villain are a lot worse if you're a _competent_ one."

Apparently Victoria didn't know what 'competent' meant, because she again failed to recognize Tobey's comment as an insult. She returned to her seat beside him and wistfully said, "Well, I sure hope you change your mind." She leaned in close to Tobey and placed a hand on his shoulder, adding in a flattering voice, "Just so you know, I always thought you were the _second_ best villain."

Becky tightened her fists in her lap and seethed. To her further frustration, instead of brushing Victoria off, Tobey happily said, "Why, thank you!"

Becky glared at him and loudly cleared her throat.

Tobey's eyes flew to her and his expression instantly became repentant. "I mean—wait a minute, the _second_ best?"

He swatted away Victoria's hand and shot her an appropriate frown. Becky sighed. _Better late than never, I guess._

"Well, naturally _I_ was the best," Victoria said.

Tobey snorted and crossed his arms. "Well, if you're trying to get me to change my mind, you're not doing the best job."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Victoria corrected, raising her voice and shaking her head. "I _always_ do the best job. I'm the best! Always!"

She leaped to her feet and pumped her arms in the air.

To Becky's profound relief, Miss Dewey came by, arms crossed, and frowned sternly at Victoria. "Miss, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Becky smiled victoriously and moved her own chair closer to Tobey's.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Later that day…" announced the Narrator.

"Becky, I can tell something is bothering you."

Tobey broke the silence with this observation as he was walking her home from the library. Becky wished she was surprised.

"I'm fine, Tobey," she said listlessly, eyes still trained on the ground, "Really. It's just…" She paused to sigh, then looked up and met his searching eyes. "All these villains showing up out of nowhere trying to lure you back to the dark side isn't exactly heartwarming."

"I know, right?" Tobey agreed, sounding more annoyed than disturbed. "It's almost like there's a conspiracy to—"

"NOCAN!" shouted a loud, boisterous voice, and Becky looked up to see Nocan the Contrarian standing in the road ahead of them.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding," Becky murmured, dropping her face into her palm.

Nocan charged Tobey so suddenly that Tobey stepped back, but he stopped just short of running him over and instead picked him up by the collar of his Space Camp T-shirt. Before Becky could even react he had used his free hand to haphazardly bedeck Tobey in a red cape, a pair of aviator goggles, and a blue helmet with wings on the sides. He then let go of Tobey and let him drop to the ground. Tobey flailed and teetered a bit as his feet met the pavement, but he just barely managed to stay standing. The new clothing items from Nocan looked like they'd been snagged from a costume shop, and they hung so askew on Tobey's body that Becky couldn't completely hold in a laugh. Tobey frowned at her, though only half his expression was visible around the crooked goggles and over-sized helmet.

"Um," Tobey muttered, pulling off the goggles and looking them over with confused disgust. "Might I ask what on God's green earth _that_ was all about?"

Nocan pulled out what looked like a rolled-up newspaper and brandished it like a sword. "Daily Rag say 'make Tobey villain?' NO! Make Tobey _hero!_ NOCAN!"

He pulled out a hammer and dropped it into Tobey's hands, causing him to fall to the ground with the weight of it.

"What?!" Becky exclaimed. "Let me see that!"

She reached for the paper, but Nocan pulled it out of her reach. "Let you see? NO! _Not_ let you see!"

Becky pursed her lips and growled, "What I _meant_ to say was, 'keep it away from me, I don't want to touch it!'"

"NOCAN!"

He flung the paper at her and it slapped her in the face. She pulled it off and began frantically scanning its contents. Sure enough, it _was_ a copy of yesterday's edition of The Daily Rag, and a _very_ disagreeable headline jumped out at her from the right-hand margin.

"What?" she murmured in disbelief as she read.

"What is it?" Tobey tried to come over, but tripped on his cape and fell once more on his face. Becky paid him no mind—just kept staring at the bold-lettered advertisement with a slack jaw. By the time Tobey had stripped off his 'hero' suit and stumbled grumbling to her side, she had already crushed it back into a roll so tight, it probably _could've_ worked as a sword.

"Oh, he is going to hear it for _this_ ," she seethed, marching off in a huff.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Moments later," announced the Narrator, "In the editorial office of The Daily Rag…"

The door burst off its hinges and fell flat on the floor with a loud slam. A few items fell off the nearest shelf as Becky marched indignantly into the room, holding up the paper she'd gotten from Nocan.

"Scoops, what is this?" she vociferated, her voice tinged with both fierce anger and cutting disappointment.

Scoops cowered near the floor with nothing but his flimsy desk standing between him and Becky's wrath. He grasped the edge of the desk with one hand and pointed weakly into the air with the other, managing a sheepish smile. "I knew you were gonna ask about that, and before you say anything, I have a really good explanation!"

"Yeah?" Becky muttered incredulously, crossing her arms.

Scoops swallowed and climbed into his chair, then blurted out, "The guy who commissioned the ad was _very_ persuasive… and might've been using mind-control… That's just a theory, though."

Becky heaved a flustered sigh. "Scoops, how _could_ you? For crying out loud, this is a contest to turn Tobey back into a villain!"

No _wonder_ Tobey was being bombarded by illicit invitations from his former associates! There was a $10,000 prize for the villain who successfully converted him back to the side of evil!

"Look, I knew Tobey wouldn't actually _do_ it," said Scoops. Then he confidently and unsettlingly added, "and if he does then he's a loser… and you should dump him."

Becky's objection died in her throat. As always, Scoops's words were brutally frank and smacked of unpleasant yet undeniable truth. Whatever the outcome of this 'contest,' he certainly wouldn't be the one to blame. If Tobey really was the changed person she wanted to believe he was, no temptation could draw him away from her and back to villainy. But that realization should be a comfort, not a worry… shouldn't it?

« « « « « … » » » » »

"That evening at the Botsford house," said the Narrator, "Something is definitely eating Becky."

Becky wandered morosely into her room and flopped onto her bed with a sigh. Bob waddled in after her, chittering with concern. He hopped up onto the bed beside her and patted her arm. She looked up into his concerned eyes, sighed, and closed her own.

"I don't know, Bob," she admitted, frustration building within her. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't even know if anything _is_ wrong. I'm just… perturbed."

Bob squeaked a tentative inquiry, and Becky replied, "Perturbed means agitated or deeply bothered—you know, feeling like something isn't right."

Bob moaned somberly.

"I don't know… It's probably noth—"

Fearful screams assaulted her ears from deep in the city, one of which distinctly said, "ROBOT!"

Becky shuddered. "Oh, no…"

She jetted off without even changing into WordGirl. A loud screech got her attention, and she noticed poor Bob whipping about in her wake, barely hanging onto her ankle. She stopped for half a second—long enough to give him a brisk apology and a chance to get on her back, and she was off again. He yelled a reminder about her clothes, and she transformed into WordGirl midair, milliseconds before she arrived in the center of town. There, in plain sight, a giant robot was wreaking havoc. The teenage boy standing on its shoulder was unmistakable.

"Tobey!" she screamed vehemently as she zipped right in front of him. She said no more, however, once she got a good look at him.

Tobey's face was expressionless and his eyes glazed over. He repeatedly pressed a button on the remote in his hand, and he sounded like one of his robots when he said, "I will destroy the city. Mu ha ha."

WordGirl blinked, then slowly turned her head to stare blankly at Captain Huggyface. He stared blankly back, and then they both turned to stare blankly at Tobey.

_What was it Scoops said about the guy who commissioned the contest ad?_

"Mr. Big?"

"What?" Tobey asked in his robot voice, and she now noticed that his British accent was a lot less convincing than usual. "I am not Mr. Big. I am Theodore Tobey Mc—"

"Oh, come ON, Mr. Big," WordGirl shouted, angrily clenching her fists. "I know you've got Tobey under mind control! Where are you? Show yourself!"

She listened carefully with her super-hearing, tuning in to the sound of Mr. Big's voice and ignoring Tobey's when he mechanically blathered out another denial. She heard it, coming from _inside_ the giant robot.

With one furious swipe, she ripped off the front of the robot's chest, revealing a little control room inside. In a small swivel chair surrounded by little monitors sat Mr. Big. He had a microphone in his hand, which he quickly hid behind his back as he smiled innocently at her.

"Oh! WordGirl!" he exclaimed in a painfully bad British accent. He caught himself, cleared his throat, and continued in his normal voice. "I mean, WordGirl! Thank goodness you're here! As you can _clearly_ see, I've been kidnapped—by a kid. I've been wronged. Thank you for catching the _villain—_ who did this."

Huggy growled and folded his arms.

"Oh, give it a rest, already!" bellowed WordGirl. "You're caught, red-handed, end of story!"

"Fine," Mr. Big conceded, "But it doesn't matter! Tobey returned to villainy, so I win!"

"You realize it doesn't count as turning him back into a villain if he doesn't do it of his own volition, don't you?"

Mr. Big frowned defensively and held up a copy of the Daily Rag, pointing at the contest ad. "No, it just says that he has to return to villainy. It doesn't say it has to be willingly. Therefore I—win the contest."

"Aren't you the one _sponsoring_ the contest?" snapped WordGirl.

"Am I?" Mr. Big looked genuinely confused. He pulled out his cell phone and held it to his ear. "Leslie, did I sponsor a contest? … I _did_?"

Huggy heaved an exasperated moan and WordGirl pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, well," Mr. Big babbled, still optimistic as he pocketed his phone. "I won my own contest, and I don't think that's ever been done before, so it's still a win for me. Muhaha!"

"Just turn off the mind control, already," WordGirl muttered lethargically.

"All right, all right."

Mr. Big pushed a button on the control panel in front of him, and WordGirl looked to Tobey to see that he indeed had been released. He blinked a few times and shook his head, looking dazed.

"What?" he murmured, rubbing his forehead. "Where am I?" He gasped and grabbed hold of his robot's neck when he looked down and saw the city sprawled out almost half a mile below him.

"It's okay, Tobey," WordGirl said reassuringly, softening her tone for his sake. She reached inside the robot and grabbed Mr. Big by the back of his suit, then pulled him out into the open air and held him up for Tobey to see. "Mr. Big-Pain-in-the-Neck here was just trying to win his own contest."

Tobey's expression screwed up into a furious scowl. "You used _mind control_ on me?! You're not allowed to use mind-control on other villains!"

"True," Mr. Big conceded, smugly folding his arms. "But you aren't a villain now, so that rule doesn't apply."

"Well, if I'm not a villain now, then you didn't succeed!" Tobey snapped back.

Mister Big smiled and pointed a finger in the air, but retracted it and dropped the smile before he could manage a retort.

WordGirl heaved a tired sigh. "You know what? I don't even care anymore. You're just going to jail and that's the end of it."

"What? _Me?_ " whined Mr. Big. "But _Tobey_ was the one wrecking the city!"

"Mind control doesn't count! If it did, I'd have to arrest everyone in the city every time you pulled one of these stunts!"

Mister Big chuckled with amusement and innocently fingered one cheek. "Boy, wouldn't _that_ be funny."

Two teens and a monkey all shot the same glare at him.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Later that evening, at the Botsford House," the Narrator said, holding in a chuckle.

"You're sure you're okay?" Becky asked, cradling the phone worriedly next to her ear. She was huddled on the floor in the hall, back to the wall just below where the phone jack hung.

"Yes, I'm fine," Tobey sighed. "There are advantages to being an honorary member of the Botsford family, after all. I've got the district attorney _and_ the local superhero on my side."

Becky smiled tenderly, relieved that he wasn't there to see what a mess she was. The events of the past couple days had really done a number on her composure. It didn't take much to shake her feelings right now—for good _or_ ill.

"Tobey," she ventured, feeling weak and vulnerable.

"Yeah?" he said.

Becky took a deep breath, steadied her nerves the best she could, and softly said, "You don't… _miss_ being a villain, do you?"

"Why would I?" Tobey answered without hesitation. "I have _you_ now."

Becky's breath caught in her throat. Heart pounding, she covered the receiver to keep Tobey from hearing the pathetic little noises she made while struggling to get ahold of herself. No… it really didn't take much to unravel her anymore.

"Becky?" Tobey asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," Becky said, removing her hand from the receiver and speaking as evenly as possible. She forced a chuckle and jokingly muttered, "Just wondering what kind of hare-brained scheme the next villain will come up with to turn you."

Tobey groaned. "Well, whatever it is, it can't be worse than that nonsense Mr. Big tried to—"

_Thump!_

The line went silent.

"Tobey?" Becky asked worriedly. "Tobey?!"

Five seconds later she was in Tobey's room as WordGirl. She found him on his knees facing away from her with the phone laying on the floor to his left. To his _right_ was a conspicuously out-of-place baseball bat.

"Tobey?" she murmured.

She started to move toward him, but paused when he suddenly whirled around to face her, his movements abrupt and unnatural. He was wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses which she'd never seen before, and his eyes were suddenly very big and very dark—as if they'd been scribbled across the lenses in black marker.

Suddenly, he—floated up onto his feet?

"WordGirl!" he exclaimed in an even worse British accent than Mr. Big's.

Now, WordGirl knew that Tobey was far from consistent in the vocal department, but she'd never heard him sound so… different. He pointed a finger that was somehow completely lifeless despite the force with which he'd whipped it at her, and shrilly added, "My arch nemesis!"

WordGirl stared at him for a moment, too flabbergasted to react properly.

"Don't look so shocked," said 'Tobey,' his left arm falling limp at his side as his right shot into the air. "You had this coming, WordGirl! You can't keep a good villain like me down forever!"

While he spoke, his head kept flopping down to his chest, then righting itself, and WordGirl noticed that his feet only seemed to be touching the floor _half_ the time. She wondered if this was how Red Riding Hood would have felt… if the wolf dressed as her grandmother had been twitching around like a fish out of water, that is.

"Um… Tobey?" she finally uttered. "You don't seem… like yourself."

"Uh-oh, was that wrong?" said the voice, which sounded familiar in the sudden absence of a fake accent. "I mean, uh—Soon I will have you for myself! Hahahaha!"

"Uh-huh," WordGirl mumbled, eyes closed halfway to show her skepticism.

"Prepare yourself, WordGirl! For I have the ultimate plan to destroy the city once and for all! Uh—"

Tobey flopped onto the floor like a wet noodle, then jerked back up with a remote in his hand—one that WordGirl fortunately recognized.

"Uh—AH HA!" he said, sticking out his lifeless finger again. "Take _this_!"

He tried to press the button on the remote, but his finger missed. Then his head slumped down and hit it instead. WordGirl couldn't help but giggle and look knowingly to the box-shaped robot in the corner that hummed to life and hovered over to her. The robot opened up its front compartment, reached inside with its tiny claws, and pulled out her favorite flavor of popsicle.

"Thank you, Fridgeratron," WordGirl said, gladly taking the treat. The robot dipped forward in acknowledgment, then turned around and offered a popsicle to Tobey.

"Oh, thank you!"

And with that Tobey collapsed in a heap on the floor, leaving a green popsicle floating in midair where his hand had been. After an awkward silence, the voice muttered, "Oh… fudgesicle."

WordGirl just stared and started licking her popsicle.

 _Finally_ , the expected visage of Invisi-Bill faded into view, holding the green popsicle and standing over Tobey's unconscious body. "Okay, you got me," he said, raising his free hand in surrender. "But can I keep the ice cream?"

« … »

The Narrator sniggered and snorted, barely holding in his laughter as he struggled out the words, "Even _later_ that evening…"

Tobey sat on the couch in his living room holding a box of popsicles to his head, glaring intensely at nothing in particular.

"Well," he muttered, using his British accent even though Becky was the only one there, "this has officially transcended the realm of 'ridiculous' and proceeded straight into the unholy region of 'sheer insanity.'"

Becky shrugged weakly and said in a pathetic attempt at optimism, "Well, they have to be almost out of ideas by _now_ , right?"

Tobey looked dubiously up at her, and the Narrator snickered.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"The next day," announced the Narrator, "Tobey bravely strikes out into the city to confront a villain populace that is 'almost out of ideas.'"

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" Tobey grumbled sardonically at the sky. There was a bump on his head the size of a goose egg and needless to say, he wasn't in the best mood.

Across the street on his right, Big Left Hand Guy waved at him and called out, "Hey, Tobey! Need a hand with any villainous schemes?"

Tobey ignored him.

A little way down the block, The Coach rushed out of a building and said, "Tobey! Come try out my new course—'Getting Back Your Lost Evil Mojo!'"

Tobey ignored him as well.

A deranged-looking man in glasses and a ponytail hopped out in front him wearing a shirt with Dr. Two-Brains' mouse insignia on it and doing a really bad approximation of an evil laugh. He had three plastic brains taped onto his head—one on top and one on either side—making him look like some freaky club-headed alien.

He dropped a pair of magazines into Tobey's stunned hands and then pumped his arms in the air. "Ha! Dr. Two-Brains gave you _one_ magazine, but I gave you _two_ magazines!"

"Who are you?" Tobey asked, "Kid Math's weird uncle?"

"No!" the man snapped indignantly, "I'm Dr. Four-Brains!"

Tobey rolled his eyes and kept walking.

At the turn of the next bend, Tobey found a tiny orange kitten sitting right in his path. It was wearing a wee little paper hat and had a sign hanging around its neck that read, 'Pretty please be evil again?'

Tobey sighed, too annoyed to be moved by its adorableness, and passed it by.

Not half a block later, he spotted The Learnerer perched awkwardly atop a recycle bin, holding up a pair of binoculars that were trained on Tobey even though he was close enough that he certainly didn't need them.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled, hoping he wouldn't regret asking.

"I'm studyinging you," said The Learnerer. He pointed informatively in the air while keeping his face planted decidedly in the binoculars. "Once I have enough knowledge to formulate a plan, I'll make my move and become the winnerer of the contest!"

Tobey made a face and shook his head. The Learnerer's binoculars followed him closely as he walked right up to the recycle bin and tossed in the magazines that Kid Math's weird uncle had given him. "Good luck with that," he muttered sarcastically as he continued on his way.

He glanced behind him once he reached the end of the street, then glanced quickly around and made a run for it. He ducked into the nearest dark alley, clambered up a fire escape, dashed across a rooftop, and dropped down on top of a dumpster on the other side. Panting from the effort, he huddled quietly behind the dumpster, waiting to see if anyone had managed to follow him. After all was quiet for a few minutes, he cautiously crept out.

"Aha!" shouted an unwelcome voice, and Tobey shot a fierce frown behind him at The Amazing Rope Guy.

"I got you," the villain said, swinging a lasso over his head. He threw it at Tobey, and it dropped harmlessly on the ground at his feet.

With one eyebrow raised in derision, Tobey looked slowly up from the sad lasso to its even sadder master. The Amazing Rope Guy slumped his shoulders and softly moaned, "Ohh. Man."

He was so pathetic, Tobey couldn't even summon enough frustration to be mad at him. "Okay, I'll bite," Tobey sighed. "What was _that_ supposed to accomplish?"

"Uh… I was supposed to try and kidnap you.

"Wow," Tobey muttered, sounding less than awed. "They put _you_ in charge of that?"

"I know, right?" Rope Guy agreed, much to Tobey's surprise. He let his arms flop listlessly at his sides and muttered, "They're really getting desperate."

In spite of himself, Tobey actually smiled at him. Apparently, The Amazing Rope Guy wasn't bad at _everything_. This was the first attempt on his future that had actually amused Tobey.

Rope Guy groaned morosely. "I hate peer pressure."

"You should just ignore it," Tobey advised. "That's what _I_ do."

"And you're real good at it, too, if you don't mind me sayin' so."

"Thank you!"

"So… you're not gonna call WordGirl to take me to jail, are you?"

Tobey shrugged. "As far as I can see, you haven't _successfully_ committed any crimes."

"Hey, thanks!" he sheepishly averted his eyes and added, "Um… since you're being so nice, do you think I could get a picture of you doing your evil laugh or something to show the guys back at the EVA?"

"Don't press your luck," Tobey teased. He turned to leave, and promptly tripped on the downed lasso and fell on his face.

"Hey, it worked!" Amazing Rope Guy exclaimed, quickly changing his tone as he added, "I mean, you okay?"

Tobey groaned in reply.

« « « « « … » » » » »

The Narrator panted and asked in a hoarse voice, "Are we close to the end yet? Man, I don't know how many more scene intros I have in me… I might lose my voice, or even… just start repeating myself…" He cleared his throat and announced professionally, "As the afternoon draws to a close, Tobey approaches his house in a bad state."

Tobey approached his house in a bad state—an aggravated mess of tense muscles and frazzled nerves, at the end of an almost imperceptibly short fuse. He looked up from the sidewalk and let out a long sigh. He needed to compose himself before going inside, lest he snap at his mother and make even more trouble for—

He stopped in his tracks at the sight the girl standing on his front porch.

"Becky?" he said, and she froze just shy of knocking on the door. She turned around to look at him with an expression that seemed sad, but she quickly put on a smile and bashfully said, "Hey… Tobey. I just thought I'd come by and check on you—I mean see how you're doing!"

She averted her eyes and bit her lip, as though worried that she'd said the wrong thing. Tobey didn't have the energy to wonder about this, though. He was just glad to know that she cared so much. He smiled, feeling the tension melt out of him as he rushed toward her and threw his arms around her. She flinched in surprise.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said quietly, savoring the soft touch of her hair against his cheek.

Becky made a faint gasp-like noise, then relaxed in his arms and hugged him back. She made no reply until a moment later, when she tensed and nervously murmured, "Speaking of sights…"

Tobey cringed, reluctantly pulled away from her, and looked back in the direction she was facing. There, behind the picket fence surrounding his front yard, a throng of villains had gathered with inexplicable speed. They were holding up signs that said things like 'Make Tobey Bad Again' and 'Once A Villain, Always A Villain.' No sooner than he'd set eyes on them, they began shouting, murmuring, and pumping their signs in the air.

Tobey's face screwed up with rage. "What is WRONG with you people?!" he screamed, stamping a foot and balling his fists at his sides. "Why can't you just leave me be and get on with your _own_ villainous pursuits?!"

He realized now that he'd made a mistake by pointing out that Mr. Big hadn't legitimately won his own contest. If he'd let the man think he'd won, the freak show might've ended right there.

"ARRGH! Ye can't hide from destiny," shouted Captain Tangent, shaking his hook at Tobey. He continued to drone on, but Tobey was _far_ too angry to pay him any attention. He gritted his teeth hard, and the last feeble strand of self-restraint inside him snapped like a toothpick.

"Okay, _fine_ ," he yelled, interrupting the would-be pirate. "If I destroy one last building, will you all _leave me alone_?"

« … »

Becky's jaw went slack, and she gaped at Tobey. "What?!"

She couldn't have heard him right… He would never…

"Oh, absolutely!" cheered one Lady Redundant Woman.

"Definitely!" agreed another.

"Indubitably!" affirmed a third.

"Okay then," Tobey whispered with a menacing glint in his eye. He pulled his computer from his pocket and entered a command. Bob gave a nervous moan, looking up at him.

Becky's heart began to race with anxiety, She reached out and grasped his arm, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Tobey, you can't!"

He returned her fearful gaze with a composed scowl, though it didn't seem directed at _her_ , and coolly said, "Not to worry, my dear. Everything is under control."

The ground began to shake, and then came the familiar metallic sounds of a giant robot's stride as it approached. Becky looked up to see the enormous cylindrical body looming over her, a dark silhouette against the waning sunlight. She swallowed, her heart sinking into her stomach. It had been a long time since she'd seen one of those things and actually felt scared.

The robot reached its right hand down to the ground, placing it next to Tobey like a platform. Tobey didn't hesitate to climb on, and the robot lifted him up onto its shoulder. Below, Bob hopped urgently up and down, flailing his arms and shrieking in protest.

"All right, then! Off we go!" Tobey pushed a button on his computer, and the robot set off. Its booming footsteps cut a path toward some unknown target. The villains cheered and ran after it. Bob chittered nervously and pointed in the direction they'd all gone. Becky stood there frozen in shock, eyes fixed on the robot receding into the distance.

_No… This can't be happening…_

Finally, a tug on her left arm snapped her out of it, and she looked down at Bob, who stared meaningfully up at her, already dressed as Captain Huggyface.

Becky shook her head, trying to get ahold of herself. "You're right, Huggy," she said, picking him up and jumping into the bushes. She transformed into WordGirl without calling out her signature catchphrase and took to the skies.

"Tobey what are you doing?" she cried out, flying up beside him as he rode on his robot's shoulder. The whole situation was eerily reminiscent of the time near the end of his villain days when he'd gone to destroy Megahard Industries and she'd narrowly managed to talk him out of it.

"Teaching the villains a lesson," Tobey replied earnestly in his real voice.

"By agreeing to smash a building?!" WordGirl shouted, frowning indignantly at him.

"Indeed," Tobey said confidently, eyes fixed ahead. "Just one building."

"Tobey, that doesn't make any sense!" WordGirl shouted, fists clenched in frustration.

Tobey turned to face her with a sly smile on his face. "It does if I destroy the right building."

WordGirl blinked, and for the first time, it occurred to her that they were heading _out_ of the city, not _into_ it. She looked ahead, presumably at the robot's destination, and saw a somewhat dilapidated motel with a large sign outside that read, "Villains Welcome."

"I'll cover the cost of the property damages," Tobey promised. " _All_ of them. I'm smart enough. I'll figure out a way."

Speechless, WordGirl just stared at him for a long moment. His narrowed eyes were fixed ahead, and his face was a picture of determination. Determination—for the first time in years to destroy a building, and for the first time in his life to pay for it afterward. She knew that she should probably still be trying to stop him, but she had lost all will to act against him. Her heart was welling up with blended feelings of respect, affection, and even a little shame. It suddenly seemed ridiculous that she had actually doubted him.

Bob chirped approvingly and gave Tobey a thumbs-up, which Tobey returned in kind.

Once again, he had proven himself. Amid an onslaught of effort to shake his standing, he had stalwartly refused to return to villainy. He'd even resolved to pay back over _ten billion dollars_ in property damage. Steeped as she was in a flood of renewed faith in him, WordGirl was absolutely confident that he would succeed in that endeavor. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him how proud she was, but she restrained herself, remembering that she was in costume. It would not do for WordGirl to be seen hugging Tobey McCallister—particularly as he was on his way to wreck a building.

Her blissful moment of contemplation came to an abrupt end as the sound of a giant metal foot smashing through a roof ripped through the air. Just like that, the villains' 'convention center' was completely destroyed. Walls caved in around the giant foot that had smashed in the ceiling, and the 'Welcome Villains' sign fell over on its face.

The crowd of villains quieted in shock when they arrived, dropping their signs, their jaws, and any further attempts to coerce their former colleague.

"Tobey, why would you do that?" wailed The Butcher, approaching from near the motel rather than from town. He was accompanied by Chuck, Granny May, and Dr. Two-Brains—the same group that had shown up the other day to present Tobey with his certificate of achievement. WordGirl realized suddenly that they hadn't been part of the protesting mob.

"Yeah," Granny May shouted, waving her purse angrily up at the robot. "What's the big idea?"

"What if we'd been _in_ there?" yelled Chuck, hands on his hips.

"You're lucky we conveniently stepped out for some fresh air all at the same time!" Two-Brains bellowed, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Why, I've got half a couple of minds to—"

"SILENCE!" Tobey screamed at the top of his lungs, pointing angrily down at them. "If you can't respect the decision of a fellow villain to cut his ties with you, you don't _deserve_ a place to meet! I haven't had a moment's peace in days! I've been interrupted, stalked, spied on, and even _mind controlled_. That, my former friends, is harassment! I won't stand for it any longer!"

Tobey finished, and the air went quiet. The villains on both sides of the robot looked up at Tobey with remorseful expressions, and a few of them averted their eyes.

"Gosh," said Invisi-Bill, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, "We didn't realize we were bothering you that much."

"Oh, you _didn't_ , did you?" Tobey fumed down at him with crossed arms. "You didn't realize that whacking me on the back of the head with a baseball bat would _bother_ me?!"

"Sorry, Tobey," Chuck said shamefully. "It's my fault. I honestly didn't mean for it to get so out of hand. I just pitched the idea and then Seymour Orlando Smooth put a bunch of money on the table, and then it turned into this big competition. I don't even know where he _got_ all that money."

"Oh, I know where he got the money," WordGirl inserted. She shot a reprimanding look down at Mr. Big, who whistled innocently and began shuffling off to the side.

"Why, though?" Tobey demanded. "What is it to _you_ whether I'm a villain or not?"

Chuck shrugged and touched his index fingers together, looking dejected as he attempted to explain. "It's just that… when I found out WordGirl was leaving the Earth, it got me thinking about people, and…" He trailed off, sighed, then looked up at Tobey and WordGirl. "Well, you get used to people, ya know?"

At that he looked down again, his hooked-together index fingers fidgeting in front of him. "Even if you don't _like_ 'em, you just get used to them being there, and if all of a sudden they're _not_ there, it makes you kinda sad… and you start to wonder why you didn't pay more attention to 'em when they _were_ there."

WordGirl felt a pang in her chest. Chuck looked so childlike and vulnerable that even _Tobey_ softened. The villains in the throng had migrated toward the wreckage of the motel to join the other four, and a few of them nodded sadly in agreement with Chuck.

"But… I haven't been a villain for two years," Tobey pointed out, and WordGirl could tell he was struggling to hang onto his anger. "Why _now_ all of a sudden are you all noticing that I'm not there?"

"We didn't think you were leavin' fer good back then," said the Butcher.

"We all thought you'd get tired a whammin' good and wham on back like you whammed that other time."

"Yeah, even _I've_ done _that_ before," Chuck added. "But then out of nowhere, you were suddenly going steady with Becky Botsford! I mean, don't get me wrong. I've met her. She's a real sweet little gal."

WordGirl smiled and her right hand reflexively raised to her heart. She kept wondering if she should step in and say something, but she had a strong instinct that this was something Tobey needed to work out himself.

"But that was what made us realize that you were serious about quitting," said one of Dr. Two-Brains' henchmen. "We figured if you'd even given up on your thing for WordGirl, you were _never_ comin' back to being a villain."

The other henchman nodded woefully and wiped his eye.

WordGirl looked up at Tobey and saw that the frown was completely gone from his face.

"I… I don't know what to say," he mumbled at last. "I didn't think any of you actually _cared_ about me."

"We do!" shouted a voice in the crowd, followed by another that said, "We miss you, Tobey!"

A somber cheer rose up from the gathering below, and WordGirl felt a sharp tug on her heartstrings. She couldn't help but feel moved by this surprising display of affection from the villains, and after Tobey had destroyed their motel, no less! But the dark worry also rose up—the horrible, relentless fear of discovering what Tobey loved more than her. Swallowing hard to banish the lump forming in her throat, she turned to Tobey and tried—and failed—to say his name, and call his attention back to her.

Not having a single word, she just stared at the conflicted look on his face, feeling helpless as her heart sank slowly into her stomach.

Finally, Tobey pushed a button on his computer, and the robot raised up a hand. He stepped onto it, and let it lower him down to the ground, where he stepped off to join the crowd of villains. WordGirl started to drift after him, but Huggy pulled on her shoulder, signaling her to stop. He looked her in the eyes and told her to wait.

"But I _can't_ come back," Tobey shouted fervently. There was no anger in his voice, but no indecision either. "I've chosen my path, and I'm _happy_. I'm happier now than I _ever_ was as a villain… I'm sorry."

WordGirl's heart leaped from her stomach straight up into her head, and she nearly lost her grip on sense and reason. Huggy shrieked forbiddingly as she once again moved to tackle Tobey with that hug, and she shied back just in time, chuckling sheepishly as her sidekick frowned at her.

At long last, she felt like she understood… Being a former villain wasn't something Tobey could just smash to pieces like a building. It was an important part of him. A bad part, maybe—a part he was right to leave behind—but important nonetheless. He couldn't simply walk away from it and act like it never happened.

She'd always wanted him to cut himself off from villainy completely and distance himself from any influence that even _reminded_ of it. When he stopped being a villain, she'd never encouraged him to say his farewells to the other villains or try to leave things on a good note. That wasn't wrong, but she realized now that it wasn't quite _right_ , either. Tobey's struggle as a villain to decide between right and wrong had helped to mold him into the amazing person he was. It wasn't something that should just be swept under the rug and forgotten. What he needed wasn't distance, but _closure_.

The villains below hung their heads and a few of them sighed in resignation.

"We understand," said Chuck. "But I don't want us to go our separate ways with hard feelings. Is there any way we can make it up to you after what we did?"

Tobey grinned softly and said, "Just promise to announce yourselves before showing up at my house from now on, and we'll call it even."

"Deal," said The Butcher, grabbing Tobey's hand and shaking it firmly.

"Are you sure you don't want this certificate of achievement?" asked Dr. Two-Brains, pulling out the certificate they'd tried to give him back when this whole mess started. "It doesn't have to be a pat on the back for having been evil, you know. Think of it as a going-away present."

"Yeah," said Chuck. "How about this?"

He took the certificate from Two-Brains, pulled a mustard-yellow pen from his pocket, and stuck his tongue out as he doodled something on the certificate. "There," he said, holding the certificate up for Tobey to see. WordGirl took the excuse to float closer to Tobey, and the two of them read the certificate side-by-side. Chuck had crossed out a single word and penned in a different word above it. Now the bold lettering across the top of the paper read, 'Certificate of Completion.'

"WordGirl," Tobey said, eyes still fixed on the paper. "Would you mind defining 'completion?'"

WordGirl smiled gratefully at his ploy to include her, and chose her words purposefully as she said, "Completion means the conclusion or fulfillment of something."

Tobey smiled. "Very well," he said, "I accept."

The sun began to set behind the wreckage of the old motel, and everyone cheered as Tobey took hold of his going-away present. Everyone… including Becky.

« ... »

_My son, if sinful men entice you, do not give in to them._

— _Proverbs 1:10_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

***pants* Darn it, muse, I said I** _**didn't** _ **have time to do any more of those 10k oneshots! DX I need a break… On the flip side, I really enjoyed writing this! Sure had enough fun coming up with crackpot scenarios, didn't I? None of theme were more ridiculous than what we occasionally saw in the actual show, though, so I don't feel** _**too** _ **bad. :P**

 **-** _**Murphy's Law of Fasting** _ **— My church does a fast every year, and a very popular observation of this that we all like to joke about is how as soon as you're fasting there's suddenly free food everywhere. :P I've experienced this phenomenon more than once myself, and I'm sure it loosely inspired the subject matter of this story. ;)**

 **-** _**Character(ization) Overload** _ **— I have never worked with that many established characters across such a short work. #_# Hopefully I didn't make any of them too OOC. I tried my very best, of course, but since many of the villains who found their way into this story are characters I've never written before, I don't know how well I nailed their personalities. The Whammer, for example, has this way of getting his meaning across even though his words don't make a lick of sense, and my constructed, logical brain found it very difficult to emulate such a strange trait. :{**

 **-** _**'Convention Center'** _ **— The 'seedy motel' I had the villains convene in is supposed to be the same one shown at the beginning of 'Mousezilla.'**

 **-** _**Free Anything with the Purchase of a Gumball** _ **— The 'coupon' Granny May gives to Tobey is a reference to 'Coupon Madness,' an episode where her evil scheme was to print fake coupons that gave her ridiculously expensive things for free.**

 **-** _**Chuck Knows Becky** _ **— This was established in 'House Arrest' when Chuck stayed with the Botsfords while his jail cell was being painted.**

 **-** _**Tobester** _ **— As silly as this nickname is, I feel I have ample justification for using it. First of all, it's the The Whammer. Second, I thought it was kinda perfect in Tobey's case since his full name actually ends in 'ster.' And lastly, since one of The Whammer's signature quirks is his laughably inarticulate manner of speaking, I had the perfect opportunity to have Tobey mishear him and think that he'd been called a toaster. XP**

 **-** _**Wham!** _ **— The Whammer's attempt to lure Tobey back to villainy is a loose reference to 'One Last Sandwich,' the episode where Whammer used this very tactic successfully on Chuck. This is also one of two episodes Chuck is referring to in the last scene when he mentions having quit and returned to villainy—the other being 'Chuck the Nice Pencil-Selling Guy.'**

 **-** _**Do I know you?** _ **— By way of description, I ended up inferring that Tobey has never met Glen Furlblam. I don't know how well that fits in with the established canon, but it made sense to me, and I figure it doesn't really matter much either way. Glen's dumb little cameo, by the way, was paying homage to 'Dr. Three-Brains,' the episode that had Glen running around with two plastic brains stuck to his head trying to outdo Dr. Two-Brains in progressively ridiculous ways.**

 **-** _**No Using Mind Control on Other Villains** _ **— This rule was stated in 'Mr. Big's Mini-Golf,' and it was mentioned that the rule had been created specifically because of Mr. Big. :P**

 **-** _**Invisi-Bill's Plan** _ **— Sadly, I can't take ANY credit for this idea. I lifted it right from episode 65 of** _**Sonic X** _ **. All except the part where the button getting pressed by his head smacking into it.** _**That** _ **I lifted from '** _**Half-Life: Full-Life Consequences: Free Man** _ **' on Youtube. Yeah, I know this makes me a ripoff artist, but it was just too funny to** _**not** _ **use! X)**

 **-** _**Li'l Mittens** _ **— The kitten with the sign, in case anyone hasn't seen 'Meat with A Side of Cute,' is an adorable little stray who The Butcher temporarily adopted as a sidekick. I have no idea if The Butcher put him up to recruiting Tobey or if he was somehow acting on his own, but the idea of having him make an appearance was too tempting to resist. Too bad his kitty powers didn't work as well on Tobey as they did on WordGirl. XP**

 **-** _**Tobey's Computer** _ **— Part of the post-canon history I established back in** _**Time to Go Home** _ **was that Tobey doesn't use remotes for his robots much anymore, having realized that it's far more efficient to have all the controls in one place. Thus, in my headcanon, he now has a pocket-sized supercomputer which he can use to control any robot he wishes via different installed programs. He still has all the remotes from before, though, and does use them occasionally.**

 **-** _**Theme Song: "Pressure" by Jump 5** _ **— This is basically Tobey's stance on returning to villainy, albeit more kindly worded than it would've been if** _**he'd** _ **written it. ;P**


	4. Diffident

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episodes 'Patch Game,' ‘Cherish is the Word,’ ‘Win a Day with WordGirl,’ ‘Rhyme and Reason,’ and 'Vocab Bee.'** _

**Foreword:**

**Well, here we go. The theme of this oneshot was suggested by Ani-maniac494, and the story takes place sometime during the week after ‘Cajole.’ The theme provided me with an opportunity to explore a potential threat to Becky and Tobey’s relationship that I have seen on the horizon ever since I was still working on my very first WordGirl fanfic. It’s a subtle, subversive little issue, but one that I couldn’t imagine NOT coming up eventually as they continued to grow closer. I’d like to thank you, Animaniac, for giving me this opportunity to flush it from the shadows. *cackles menacingly***

* * *

Diffident [ **dif** -i-d _uh_ nt] – lacking confidence in one's own ability, worth, or fitness; timid; shy.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky screamed.

She hung from the edge of a cliff, so high up that she couldn’t see the ground below. For the first time in her life, the height terrified her. What had happened to her powers? She was one shaky handhold away from a fall that would surely kill her, and she could summon neither lift to fly, nor strength to pull herself to safety. She held desperately to the jutting ledge, heart racing with dread and confusion.

“HELP!” she called out desperately. “Somebody!”

She could feel her grip beginning to slacken as the strength ebbed from her arms.

A ray of hope jolted through her as the shape of a person appeared, standing over her on solid ground just beyond the edge of the precipice. “Tobey!”

He smiled down at her, loosely crossing his arms. “Well, if it isn’t the once-proud WordGirl,” he said coolly, playing up his false accent for all it was worth. “Having a bit of trouble, are we?”

“Tobey,” Becky grunted, struggling to hold on, “Help me!”

Tobey tapped his chin and casually said, “Hmm… I don’t know if I want to.”

“What?” Becky gasped.

Tobey shrugged, his expression impassive. “I’m just not sure you’re worth the trouble anymore. Helping you was entertaining for a while, but honestly, it’s beginning to bore me.”

Becky’s heart froze over. She nearly gave up her handhold out of sheer horrified surprise. “But… you said you loved me.”

“Indeed,” said Tobey. “‘Loved.’ _Past_ tense. And come to think of it, that may have been a bit too strong a word. _Liked_ might be more accurate. I liked you for the mystique, the power, the thrill of the chase… and clearly I was right to. Look how utterly unimpressive you are without them.”

Tears streamed down Becky’s face. Tobey’s words were as frigid and clear as they were condemning, yet still she grappled with shock and disbelief. “But…” she sobbed, clinging to the edge of the cliff with trembling hands. “I thought you’d _changed_.”

“What’s that?” Tobey chuckled. “Dear, simple Becky, I’ve changed a _number_ of times since we’ve known each other. Why does it surprise you that I’m changing again?”

“But I— _trusted_ you,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with heartbreak. “I thought I _knew_ you.”

At that very moment her strength gave out, and as she was about to fall she felt a strong hand seize hers. She looked up and saw Tobey kneeling at the edge of the cliff as he held onto her. His expression twitched into a scowl as his cold eyes met hers, and he callously muttered, “I thought I knew you for three years before I found out you were WordGirl. _You_ get to be two different people. Why shouldn’t I?”

He let go, and indifferently watched her fall.

« … »

Becky bolted upright in her bed. The room was dark, and the blanket was strewn about her in a tangled mess. Bob hopped up onto the mattress beside her, chirping with concern.

Becky gasped a few breaths and experimentally levitated an inch or two into the air.

“A dream,” she murmured in relief. “It was just a dream…”

Dream or not, though, it had shaken her _soundly_. It didn’t help that it was the third and worst such dream she’d had for several consecutive nights. A recurring nightmare. She’d always thought those only happened in movies. Yet another addition to the rapidly growing list of things she’d been wrong about.

She hadn’t even gathered her wits enough to answer Bob’s questions before she heard footsteps approaching her room. In a panic, she zapped to the door and threw her weight against it, turning the lock in the same moment she felt the handle jiggle from the other side.

“Becky?” her mother asked in a nervous voice. “I heard some noises. Is something the matter?”

Becky swallowed, and managed with some effort to master herself enough to give a what she hoped was a convincing, “It’s nothing.”

She hadn’t lied to her parents since before she’d told them she was WordGirl. A twinge of guilt pricked her, but she mollified it with the assurance that what she’d told her mother wasn’t entirely untrue. It _was_ nothing—nothing that _she_ could help her with.

“Are you sure?” asked Mom in a dubious voice.

“Yes, it’s fine,” she said, desperately willing cheerfulness into her voice. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

There was a moment of uncertain silence. Finally, her mother conceded in a reluctant tone, “All right, then. Sweet dreams, Becky.”

Becky heaved a deep sigh, listening to her leave, then sank to the floor in a quivering huddle. Bob padded quietly over to her. She couldn’t see his face clearly in the stark dimness, but she could feel the anxiousness in his touch as he wrapped his long arms around her shoulders and moaned uneasily.

Becky sighed and reached up to grasp his hand in lieu of a thank you. “Just another nightmare,” she explained. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Though still clearly unsatisfied, Bob trustingly yielded.

Becky bit her lip to hold back a sob, and reluctantly admitted to herself what she had to do. If she was to lay this bizarre issue to rest, she would have to bring it to the last person on Earth she wanted to talk to about it.

« « « « « … » » » » »

WordGirl held her hand up to the window and hesitated. This was so stupid. It was the middle of the night! She couldn’t back down now, though. She’d rather face Tobey feeling petty and ridiculous than face another one of those nightmares.

Steadying herself with a deep breath, she tapped lightly on the window. Peering inside the dark room, she could see a lump on the bed stir. A moment later a disheveled blonde teenager in striped blue pajamas rose up and glanced over at the window. He squinted at her with bleary eyes and reached for his glasses, which he slowly and haphazardly put on. Once he saw her through the lenses, his eyes opened wide and all visible traces of fatigue left him. He hopped to his feet and rushed to the window, sliding it open.

“Becky?” he greeted.

WordGirl forced a wan smile and gave him a weak wave. It had been days since she’d seen him in person, and since then she’d seen him several times in increasingly horrible dreams. It made for a bizarre concoction of feelings as she stared at him now.

The initial burst of surprise over, Tobey yawned and reached under his glasses to rub his eyes. “Is something wrong?” he asked drowsily.

WordGirl bit her lip and morosely drifted inside. She landed on the floor, touched the star on her chest, and just like that, she was Becky again. She felt a little embarrassed at the realization that she, too, was in her pajamas, but at least this way if Tobey felt awkward about it, he would be in good company. She heard light footsteps approach and then Tobey’s soft, genuine voice said, “Becky?”

Becky clenched a trembling fist and turned around to face him. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she said, eyes trained on the floor. She raised a listless hand to grasp her limp elbow. “I… really need to talk to you about something.”

A few minutes later they were sitting side-by-side on the floor with their backs supported against Tobey’s bed. There was just enough moonlight streaming in through the open window that she could see the worried look on his face as she gathered her courage and tried to figure out the least risky way to open this can of worms.

“I—keep having this dream,” she gingerly began, “where you kind of… abandon me.”

She couldn’t think of a nicer way to put it. Ashamed, she looked away from him and wrapped her arms tighter around her knees.

After a long silence, Tobey whispered in a pained voice, “Becky, you know I would never—”

“Yes, of _course_ I know,” Becky interrupted, her whole body tensing as she squeezed her eyes shut. She forced herself to look up at him and urgently added, “I trust you, Tobey, I really do! That’s not the problem…”

She trailed off and let her eyes drift once more to the floor. Frustration bubbled in her heart and her eyes began to sting. She couldn’t explain it… She couldn’t even understand it. _Why?_

“Okay,” Tobey murmured awkwardly, sounding like he was trying very hard to keep a lid on his tumultuous emotions. He had never been very good at that. “What… _is_ the problem, then?”

Becky heaved a flustered sigh. She had seen the question coming, but still felt irked by her utter incompetence to answer it. “I don’t _know_ ,” she admitted, releasing her hold on her knees and slapping her hands against the floor. “I don’t even know why I’m _telling_ you about this, I just—I don’t—Ugh!”

She coiled herself once more into a tight ball, pressing her face against her knees and stewing in her own insufficiency. The worst part was not being able to wrap her own mind around it. Somehow the guilt, the fear, and even the horrifying dreams themselves would surely be much easier to bear if she could only put her finger on _why_ she was struggling with them. She was reminded of a quote from a book she’d read once—‘The known, however terrible, is often easier to live with than the unknown.’ She had never really understood that assertion until now. _Now_ she was finding out the hard way just how infuriatingly true it was.

She felt a hand rest softly on her shoulder, the motion hesitant and gentle. “I don’t know what to tell you, Becky,” Tobey said. His voice was mostly sympathetic and concerned, but carried a faint trace of his own frustration. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Becky’s whole heart rose up at hearing those words—good, bad, selfish, noble, and everything in between. She looked sharply up at Tobey, fresh tears stinging her eyes, and before she could even think about what she was saying she blasted, “No, you've always loved _WordGirl!_ You didn't care about _me_ until you found out I _was_ WordGirl!”

Tobey gasped, and Becky’s breath caught in her throat. There it was… The answer. The unfair, unconscionable, undeniable answer. Becky felt sick all of a sudden.

“I—I’m sorry,” she spluttered, “I don’t know why I said—” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, realizing that it was a lie. She _did_ know why she’d said it. She’d said it because she’d _felt_ it. It was the epiphany of her deepest, truest feelings. Tobey’s feelings for her had always been contingent upon WordGirl. That had never bothered her before… but then, she had never _shared_ those feelings before. Now that they were a couple, she suddenly _hated_ the fact that Tobey had always loved WordGirl. She found herself thinking back on every frustrating moment in the fifth grade when he had praised WordGirl’s merits while rebuking Becky’s flaws—every time he’d compared or contrasted the two of them, lifting WordGirl up or tearing Becky down. They were like tiny pinpricks that came one after the other until their combined effect was a gaping wound.

Even as the anger and pain broke forth to wash over her, she knew that it wasn’t fair for her to feel them. It wasn’t fair to Tobey, who had sacrificed so much for her sake. No, her feelings weren’t fair… but she felt them nonetheless.

Becky stared up at the stunned, anguished look on Tobey’s face, and she wished like crazy that she could shove this whole awful mess back into the realm of the unknown. No way _that_ would’ve been harder to live with than _this_ would be.

Her heart sank as Tobey slowly withdrew his hand from her shoulder. “I…”

But he said nothing more. Becky could hear his heartbeat quickening as if in fear. At least they had that in common.

“I should go,” Becky said in a choked voice. She didn’t know what else to say or do.

Tobey shifted at her side like he wanted to stop her, but he neither touched nor spoke to her as she rose to her feet. She blasted out the window and somehow managed not to burst into tears as she flew back home.

Bob was waiting on her bed when she arrived back in her room, and she hung her head in shame when he hopefully met her eyes. “Could you… leave me alone, please?

She felt bad asking, but she knew she’d never be able to explain to him in her current state. Bob looked worried and reluctant, but he nonetheless solemnly nodded and left the room without putting up a fight. Once out in the hallway, he took one last sorrowful look at Becky, then quietly closed the door behind him.

Becky stood alone in the darkness and let the tears come. She staggered over to her bed and snuggled up in the covers, drinking in whatever feeble comfort their warmth could offer. There she wept bitterly, but never quite managed to cry herself to sleep.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Tobey got up early in the morning, feeling frustrated and depressed. He hadn’t been able get back to sleep after Becky’s midnight visit. Now that the sun was rising, there was really no point staying in bed.

He reached automatically for his nightstand to grab his glasses and realized a moment later that they were still on his face. He’d never taken them off after Becky left. He sighed and removed them for a moment to rub his eyes, then put them back on and stared lifelessly at the opposite wall. It was lovingly adorned with all manner of things that reminded him of the girl he loved—photos, newspaper articles, mementos from battles, and so on. Most of them pertained to WordGirl. Those that pertained specifically to Becky were fewer and, perhaps more importantly, _newer_.

_You didn't care about_ _**me** _ _until you found out I_ _**was** _ _WordGirl!_

Tobey shuddered. Her cutting words implied something terrible—that he didn’t love her for who she was, or that he only cared for her because of her secret celebrity persona. It just wasn’t true! She _had_ to know it wasn’t true, right? Yet, there had been no hesitation or uncertainty in her voice. She had spoken the words with strong, sorrowful conviction.

The worst part was that her accusation, in and of itself, _was_ true. Much as Tobey wanted to dismiss it as unfounded, he realized upon careful reflection that, indeed, he _hadn’t_ paid any special attention to Becky prior to knowing her secret identity. Before knowing she was WordGirl he had treated her with indifference at best. He’d long regretted that, but not until now had he realized just how great a double-standard his actions had shown. His behavior toward both WordGirl _and_ Becky had been despicable, but there _was_ a clear distinction between them. WordGirl he had fervently admired, while Becky he had merely tolerated. His tender feelings had not extended to the latter until the two had become one in his mind.

Tobey took a deep, sad breath, and got to his feet. He’d thought about it all night, and the only thing he’d managed to conclude was that Becky couldn’t be blamed for the way she felt. That meant it fell to _him_ to answer her insecurities. The problem was, he hadn’t the foggiest idea _how_.

Downstairs he was surprised to find his mother already working on breakfast. Apparently, she had risen early this morning as well. He didn’t know whether that relieved or disappointed him. Before he could decide whether to quietly retreat back to his room, she turned around and noticed him.

“Tobey,” she greeted with a smile, though she sounded rather melancholy. “You’re up early.”

Tobey tried to smile back at her but lacked the energy to force himself. “Good morning, Mom,” he unenthusiastically replied, stepping quietly into the kitchen.

“I made an ice cream cake this morning,” she said, indicating the dessert on the countertop.

“For breakfast?” Tobey asked in amazement.

“Why not?” she said.

Tobey raised an eyebrow. He could think of several reasons off the top of his head _she_ might say why not. He chose not to point any of them out, though. The cake looked delicious and smelled even better.

His mother quietly walked up to him. Without warning, she gently took his glasses right off his face and began to examine them. With a sigh she looked back at her son, eyes full of concern, and said, “So… you _have_ been crying.”

Tobey stiffened, realizing he hadn’t bothered to wipe away the tiny telltale spots on his lenses. He hadn’t thought about how his mother wore glasses too and was bound to notice such things. The embarrassment was enough to flush his cheeks and spark him momentarily out of his melancholy stupor. He snatched his glasses back from her and put them back on his face.

“How did you…?”

“I heard Becky last night,” Mother admitted. “She was rather loud.”

Tobey reflexively took a step back, flushing with shame. His mother took two steps forward, wrapped an arm around Tobey’s shoulders, and herded him into the living room, where she sat him down on the couch and grasped his wrist with her free hand. Tobey was beginning to wish he’d stayed in bed. There was no getting around her invasive concern now, though, and he had neither the will nor the energy to fight her.

The woman stared at him with grave, sympathetic eyes and solemnly asked, “Did she… break up with you?”

“What?” Tobey exclaimed. “No!”

Goodness, he hadn’t even _considered_ THAT. The idea ignited a sense of urgency in him. If losing Becky was even a _remote_ possibility, he couldn’t afford to waste time feeling awkward or embarrassed. He would settle this _today_ and have an answer for her before the sun went down. She would not have another one of those nightmares. Not if he could help it.

Mother sighed in relief. “But… she is upset. Why?”

Clenching his fists in determination, Tobey took a breath and looked up at his mother. “She’s upset, because… I never had any interest in her as Becky Botsford until I discovered that she was also WordGirl.”

It sounded so much worse now that he said it aloud. No _wonder_ Becky was troubled.

“Well, that isn’t true,” Mother said casually.

Tobey’s eyes snapped to her in surprise. “What?”

She just smiled at him, looking completely unperturbed. “Sweetheart, you _always_ paid special attention to Becky. I noticed it from the moment the two of you met.”

Tobey gaped at her for a moment before he could reply. “But… I was _awful_ to her! I was rude, arrogant, condescending… I went out of my way to point out how beneath me I thought she was.”

Mother nodded in agreement. “I know, and that’s _far_ more attention than you ever gave anyone else. I can’t remember another classmate of yours—except the occasional bully—who you even _mentioned._ ”

Tobey stared wide-eyed at his mother, hope rising at her observation. He thought back to the day he’d first met Becky, and he remembered being impressed by her. What he’d said was, ‘Interesting. Someone my age who actually has a brain in her head.’ What he’d been _thinking_ was a bit more complimentary. The more he dug through his memories, the more clear it became that his mother was right. He _had_ taken special notice of her.

He hadn’t been consciously aware of it until this very moment, but having her in his life had refreshed him. She was the first kid he’d ever met who could engage with him on an intellectual level, which automatically made her stand out. All his other peers were so distant from him in terms of raw intelligence that he had difficulty even holding a conversation with them. Becky was different. She _challenged_ him, and that made her interesting. That was why he’d gone out of his way to insult her, lure her into arguments, or brag to her about his evil plans. Interacting with her stimulated his thirsty mind. Could it be that…?

Tobey shook his head to jar himself back to sense and reason before his hopes could climb too high. It was comforting to realize that Becky had been special to him even before he knew she was WordGirl, but he couldn’t let himself stray off into unhealthy speculation that he might have always subconsciously known she was WordGirl or that he’d liked Becky all along and was projecting those feelings onto WordGirl. Such musings would be dishonest at best and would only cloud his judgment and make it harder for him to get to the truth.

“Thanks, Mom,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, I think the problem is more about the attention I paid to _WordGirl_.”

His mother gave an understanding nod. “Ah. I see. In that case, it’s not a problem you can solve…”

Tobey shot her a desperate look and she gave a light chuckle and continued, “… _without_ understanding why this is something that bothers her.”

“So… I just have to talk to her about it?” Tobey asked, apprehensive at the thought. He was extremely reluctant to bring this to Becky again without first having some idea of what he needed to say. Besides, judging by the way she’d acted last night, she didn’t even completely understand her _own_ feelings about this.

“Perhaps,” said Mom, thoughtfully touching her chin. “There are other ways to get to know someone besides talking to them, though. You can learn a lot about someone from the things and people they surround themselves with.”

“General things, maybe, but this is specifically about Becky being WordGirl.”

“True,” conceded his mother. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who has been privy to that secret for longer than _you_ have?”

Tobey blinked at her in surprise. He couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or speaking out of genuine ignorance. He didn’t know how many details had been divulged to her when the decision had been made to let her in on WordGirl’s secret identity. Either way, she made a fair point, though Tobey couldn’t help but feel annoyed with her for it.

« « « « « … » » » » »

A rocket-propelled robot came to an abrupt halt outside Tobey’s window. It was carrying a large brown sack that bulged with undulating lumps while muffled but distinctly human noises issued from inside.

“Subject has been successfully retrieved,” said the robot. It tossed the sack through the window into Tobey’s room and it fell open on the floor. Not half a second later, Scoops scrambled out and glanced around in a tizzy, babbling indistinctly.

“Why, hello there, Todd,” Tobey greeted impishly. He sat in a chair with his legs crossed and his hands clasped before him in a businesslike fashion.

“Tobey?” Scoops gasped. His body was tense, his expression wild with surprise. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Tobey said with a dismissive wave. “I didn’t _kidnap_ you.”

Scoops frowned and straightened. No longer in a panic, he managed with a respectable amount of pluck to retort. “Actually, I’m pretty sure sending a robot to throw someone in a bag and carry them off somewhere against their will falls squarely within the definition of ‘kidnap.’ Ask your girlfriend.”

Tobey felt a pang of shame at the mention of Becky, but he couldn’t show weakness in front of Scoops. Keeping a stiff upper lip, he stoically replied, “Call it what you will, but it was necessary.”

Scoops raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh- _huh_.”

Suddenly another robot lowered into view out the window, grasping a fancy seat upon which Violet was daintily perched. She was wearing a crown of daisies on her head.

“Whee!” she exclaimed with a smile. “That was fun! Thank you, Mister Robot!”

“My pleasure, your highness,” the robot’s monotone voice said in reply as Violet hopped into the room through the window.

“Hello, Scoops!” she said with a happy wave upon seeing him. Turning to her host she greeted in turn, “Hello, Tobey.”

Scoops gaped at her, looking incredulous, then spun on Tobey with a flustered frown. “How come _she_ got a throne and _I_ got a potato sack?”

“Because chivalry is not dead,” Tobey unabashedly replied. “Ice cream cake?”

The Fridgeratron, which had been standing by at his side, opened up to reveal two servings of cake with little forks sticking out of them.

“Ooh!” Violet exclaimed, and she dashed forward and took the plates out of the little robot, offering one to her boyfriend. Scoops took it dubiously, still frowning suspiciously at his host. Tobey decided to get down to business before he wasted any more time with pointless bickering. “Anyway, I’ve summoned the two of you here because I’m in need of your assistance with a matter of grave import.”

Violet gave him her full attention and even Scoops abandoned his annoyed glower in favor of that curious look journalists get when they smell a story.

Pointing a warning finger at him, Tobey vehemently announced, “And no ‘on the record’ business, Ming, or you’ll be catching the next potato sack to the city dump!”

Scoops shot him a challenging stare and took another bite of cake. Tobey noticed, however, that he _did_ refrain from pulling out his notepad.

“What is it, Tobey?” Violet asked.

Tobey took a deep breath before replying. This was the part he hadn’t been looking forward to. Already his ego was screaming in protest. He looked to Violet, then to Scoops, and finally closed his eyes. He kept his tone as steady and unperturbed as possible when he spoke.

“It’s Becky. I’ve upset her, and… I want to make it right.”

Violet, he could immediately tell, was sympathetic. Scoops, however, looked skeptical.

“Why would you want _our_ help?” he asked.

Tobey frowned and stiffened. “Because,” he reluctantly admitted, “you… know her better than I do.”

The words were bitter on his tongue. Becky was so overwhelmingly important to him that it stung to acknowledge _anyone_ knew her better than he did. It was true, though. Scoops and Violet were Becky’s closest friends. They had been getting to know her throughout the years _he’d_ spent chasing WordGirl. He wished caring for her alone was enough to fix every problem that came between them, but it wasn’t. “She’s _complicated_ , and _I’m_ complicated… so needless to say, our relationship is also quite complicated!”

Scoops leaned over to Violet and whispered audibly in her ear, “I’m sure glad _we’re_ not complicated.” Violet nodded in agreement, and they took a bite of cake in perfect synch.

Tobey contained a growl and finished saying his piece. “Since the two of you are her closest friends, I thought that—perhaps—you could provide some insight into what’s really bothering her.”

He forced himself to look up, and he saw that Scoops had donned a resigned smile. The reporter swallowed and said, “Okay then. What’s the issue?”

Tobey hesitated a moment before answering. “That’s just it. I don’t really know for sure… I _think_ she’s worried that I might only like her because she’s WordGirl.”

“ _Do_ you?” Scoops impertinently asked.

“Of course not!” Tobey lashed out, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Then why is she worried?” asked Violet, her voice level and composed.

Tobey grimaced in shame, and it took him a moment to answer. Though it pained his heart to remember, he knew that the best way to explain Becky’s feelings was with her _own_ words. He took a steadying breath and slowly replied, “She said that I've always loved WordGirl _…_ and that I didn't care about _her_ until I found out she _was_ WordGirl.”

“Ouch,” Scoops said with his mouth full.

Violet gave Tobey a worried look. “And that’s… not true?”

Tobey couldn’t answer. He felt like a trapped animal desperately struggling to get free from a snare he’d stumbled into of his own volition.

“Look,” he muttered at last, his accent slipping as he began to lose command of his voice, “I admit that I was attracted to WordGirl first and that I utterly _failed_ to recognize how dear to me Becky was until I knew she and WordGirl were the same person, but… I didn’t even _meet_ her as Becky until I had already fallen for WordGirl! Once I knew they were the same person I felt the same way about them both. Why does it _matter_ which of them I liked first? I mean, they _are_ the same person, yes?”

Scoops and Violet gave each other a knowing look, then turned back to Tobey.

“Well,” murmured Violet, “yes and no…”

“What does _that_ mean?” Tobey grumbled.

“Hate to break it to you, Tobey, but it’s not quite that simple,” said Scoops while Violet quietly resumed eating beside him. “Remember back when the City Scouts were competing to win the key to the city,?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Becky really wanted to win it. I mentioned that she’d already won tons of keys as WordGirl, and you know what she said to me?”

Tobey wished the other boy wouldn’t tease him with rhetorical questions, but he nonetheless conceded to say, “What?”

“She said that _WordGirl_ had won dozens of keys, but Becky Botsford had never won one,” Scoops explained with a fond smile. “There’s definitely some kind of distinction she draws between her two identities. You know how she—?” He cut himself off, looking suddenly shy. “Uh… Never mind.”

“What?” Tobey asked, curiosity piqued.

“Nothing! Forget it. Forget I said anything.” Scoops averted his eyes and shoved a lump of cake in his mouth.

Tobey leveled a serious frown at him and flatly said, “Scoops, this is kind of important.”

Scoops actually blushed a little, and he swallowed conspicuously. “It's just that... It's super-awkward. I mean, I'm a journalist. I'm okay with super-awkward, but—”

“Spit it out!”

Scoops heaved a resigned sigh. “Okay, well… You know how she used to have a huge crush on me?”

Tobey cringed like he’d just bitten into a lemon. In all fairness, he had asked for it. “ _Yes,_ ” he muttered through grit teeth, reflexively crossing his arms.

“Well, something funny happened on Valentine’s Day a few years back,” Scoops reported. “The day you challenged me to a duel, remember? “WordGirl had just saved me from your robots and she wanted to know who my special valentine was for.”

“Who it was for?” Violet asked eagerly.

Scoops raised an eyebrow at her. “You, silly.”

“Ohhhhh…” Violet said, returning his wan smile. “I remember that now.”

Tobey rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and lightly shook his head.

“Anyway,” Scoops continued, “when I told her it was for a girl, she actually asked if her name rhymed with ‘Mecky.’”

He paused to take a bite of his cake. Apparently he hadn’t been kidding about being ‘okay with super-awkward.’ Tobey tensed the muscles in his already crossed arms. “Is there a point to this story, or are you just getting back at me for the potato sack?”

“Here’s the point,” Scoops said with his mouth full. “She was in costume as WordGirl, and she used it as an opportunity to ask me how I felt about _Becky_.” He paused to swallow, then proceeded to flick his fork around as he explained like he might’ve done with his pencil in different circumstances. “Back then, I didn’t know she was WordGirl yet, and she didn’t know I liked Violet yet. She _did_ , however, know that I was _dying_ to find out more about WordGirl. From her perspective, it would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to use WordGirl as a means of getting closer to me. I mean, you saw how hard I tried to win the ‘Win a Day with WordGirl’ contest.”

Tobey nodded. “So… why _didn’t_ she?”

“Because she didn’t _want_ me to like WordGirl. She wanted me to like _Becky_.”

Tobey blinked and offered no response. The comment was surprisingly insightful, and it was taking a moment to process the implications.

Then Violet gingerly spoke up. “Did… Becky ever tell you about the day _I_ found out she was WordGirl?”

Tobey shook his head.

“Hey, I’ve never heard this story, either,” Scoops commented. “Mind if I take notes?”

“Go ahead,” Violet said with a soft smile.

Scoops pumped his fist victoriously, set his cake on Tobey’s desk, and got out his notepad. Tobey was far too focused to try and stop him.

Violet set aside her own half-finished dessert as well and began with a somber sigh. “It was… awful. It nearly destroyed our friendship.”

Tobey was taken aback. “Why?” he exclaimed.

Violet frowned and looked gravely up at him. “Because nothing is more important to me than honesty. I can’t even describe how much it hurt to know that my best friend had been lying to me my whole life.”

Her eyes almost palpably drilled into Tobey, rendering him silent. He never would’ve thought spacey, soft-spoken Violet could actually intimidate him. Little by little, he was coming to understand what Becky saw in these two.

Violet sighed. “Once I found out the truth, I started wondering why I hadn’t suspected it sooner. There were so many signs, and I was her best friend. I should have noticed, right? But then I realized that her family hadn’t noticed either, and they spent more time with her and knew her even longer than _I_ did. Besides, other people in the past suspected she was WordGirl. Villains had, reporters had…”

“Even I did once, back before we were close friends,” offered Scoops.

Violet nodded in acknowledgment. “So why was it that all those people were able to see through her before the people who knew her best?”

Tobey had no answer, and could only stare somberly at Violet and wait for her to continue.

“I realized the reason before I saw her again that day,” Violet said sadly, “and it’s partly why I was so upset with her when I confronted her about it. It’s because _knowing_ her actually makes it _harder_ to tell.”

Tobey blinked in surprise. “Come again?”

“WordGirl and Becky don’t act the same,” Violet asserted. “They act _similar_ , but it’s the way two similar people act similar, not the way one person acts similarly at two different times. WordGirl is bold and insistent where Becky is mild and accommodating. WordGirl is loud and forward where Becky is quiet and reserved. There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part, they really do seem like two different people. You must have noticed.”

Tobey blinked. He _hadn’t_ noticed… Or rather, he’d noticed, but it hadn’t registered in his mind as something worthy of further scrutiny. To him, it always seemed natural for a superhero to behave differently when in costume. He’d never given any thought to what that discrepancy might signify about who they were as a person.

“It made me feel like I’d never really known her,” Violet confided in a sorrowful voice. “Which of them was the real one? And either way, could I trust someone who spent so much time pretending to be someone else?”

She slipped off into silence. After a tense moment, just when Tobey was about to prod her on, Scoops beat him to it.

“Then what happened?” he asked in a curious but sympathetic voice.

Violet looked up at them, smiling for the first time since beginning her story. “Finally she talked to me about it as WordGirl. She took off her helmet and told me that she was the same girl I’d always known. I had never seen her so vulnerable and sincere before… So I went home and thought about it some more… and eventually, I came to a conclusion.”

“Which was…?” Tobey asked, too impatient to wait for the silence to get awkward this time.

Violet smiled. “Becky and WordGirl _are_ the same person, but they aren’t exactly two halves of a whole. WordGirl is a _part_ of Becky which she’s cultivated out of necessity—the part she allows to be forceful and demanding even though she’d much rather be gentle and kind. Even when she’s WordGirl you can see that she’d rather talk than fight. She fights because she _has_ to.”

It was so simple, but it made so much sense. Tobey was speechless. He recalled something Becky had said to him a few months after he gave up villainy. He had confided in her that he was struggling with his identity now that so many of the things that once defined him were now off limits. She had gently comforted him with the simple statement, _“You_ _ **choose**_ _who you want to be, and what you want to be like.”_ If Violet was right, this statement was more to Becky than just a pithy collection of inspiring words. It was a creed by which she lived.

“The person she _wants_ to be is Becky Botsford,” Violet continued. “The mask she puts on as WordGirl isn’t fake, but it’s still a mask. It isn’t as real to her as the person she is in daily life. But WordGirl is the one who gets all the attention. WordGirl is the one everybody loves. It must be hard to live like that… eclipsed by your own shadow.”

Violet said all this like she was realizing it for the first time.

Tobey, once again, was speechless. He hadn’t thought there was anything more he could learn about his dulcinea that would make him admire her more than he already did. This revelation about the nature of her double-life and the true weight of her personal sacrifice in order to maintain it… well, it tugged on Tobey’s heartstrings to say the least. Yet another layer of respect and sympathy for her was quickly taking shape inside him, jolting his emotions and threatening his composure.

To think that all this time he’d been completely oblivious to how the duplicity of his attentions had affected her. It had been easy for him to simply think of Becky and WordGirl as the same person, but now he understood that it wasn't that simple for _her_. To her, Becky and WordGirl were not just two sides of the same person. They were, in a sense, two separate individuals, and they had a complex relationship.

Swallowing hard, he waveringly managed, “Well, that… definitely explains a few things.”

“But does it _solve_ anything?” Scoops murmured, tapping his chin with his pencil.

Tobey said nothing.

“At the very least, it’s a step in the right direction,” Violet encouraged. “Tobey, I’m going to ask you something that might be hard for you to answer.”

Once more she caught Tobey’s eyes with that surprisingly intimidating gaze, and he felt his body going stiff with anticipation.

“ _Why_ do you love her?” Violet asked.

Tobey averted his eyes and admitted shamefully, “I… don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try,” insisted Violet. “She needs to know.”

Tobey bit his lip and clenched his fists. “She… She’s… I…”

His gaze was fixed on the floor, but he could practically feel Scoops and Violet’s eyes on him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up at them. “I love her because… I owe her _everything_ ,” he said, vomiting up the unprocessed overflow of his heart. “I was willfully spiraling out of control toward the bleakest future imaginable and she stopped me. She had every incentive to just stand back and watch me destroy my own life… but she didn’t. She showed me kindness in spite of everything I’d done and stood by me through thick and thin. I can’t even _imagine_ what kind of person I’d be… without her.”

For a long, uncomfortable moment Tobey just stood there while Becky’s friends stared silently at him with indiscernible expressions on their faces. Finally, Scoops muttered, “Huh… None of that has anything to do with WordGirl.”

“Exactly!” Tobey exclaimed. “That’s what I’ve been—”

“So, why did it start with WordGirl?”

Tobey flinched. “I…”

“What drew you to her?” Violet asked softly. “What was it about her that touched your heart and made her a part of you?”

“I don't know!” Tobey blasted.

Violet looked into his eyes for a long moment. Then she said, “Then that’s what you need to figure out.”

« « « « « … » » » » »

Tobey sat frowning in the chair by his desk, drumming his finger repetitively against a blank sheet of paper. His mind swam and his heart ached. It seemed like all his efforts, while they _had_ been illuminating, had ultimately been ineffective. He understood the problem, but he still had no idea how to solve it.

Violet had told him he needed to figure out why he had fallen for WordGirl in the first place, and he’d been too ashamed to tell her that was something he couldn’t do. There was no way for him to know. It had been love at first sight.

He remembered it so well… It happened on the same day he decided to become a villain. He had brought a little robot to show-and-tell in hopes of intimidating the red-headed girl who always made fun of his voice. During his presentation it malfunctioned spectacularly and destroyed the teacher's desk, provoking the laughter of the whole class and the ire of the teacher. For the first time the surly old woman had asked Tobey a question he couldn't answer. “Why can't you just be _normal_?!”

Later she’d addressed the whole class with a lecture of dubious relevance to mathematics, ending with the condemning statement, “Villains, delinquents, and criminals are sad, lonely people. They live in jails instead of houses, they have rivals instead of friends, and _nobody_ likes them.”

The mean red-headed girl had then discreetly slipped a note onto Tobey’s desk that read, ‘That’s where you’re headed if someone doesn’t stop you!’

After that, he had stolen away from school without telling anyone.

As he wandered the dull gray streets, unsure where he should go, he had happened upon a crime in progress by a person he recognized. It was one of the villains who once complimented him on his robots—a man he now knew as Kid Potato.

Grateful for something to distract his preoccupied mind, he had fought his way to the front of the gathered crowd, and there became the only spectator who was smiling. As he watched, entranced by how the villain carried no concern for the negative opinions of others, he thought to himself how much easier life would be if _he_ could be like that. If he could just _not care_ what everyone thought of him, he wouldn't have to try so hard to win their approval. If he could make people afraid of him, he wouldn't have to defend himself all the time. Everyone always talked about how awful villains like Kid Potato were, but from where Tobey stood, life as one of them seemed a lot less awful than what he had now.

Right when it looked like Kid Potato was about to get away after immobilizing half a dozen police officers, WordGirl appeared in a streak of light, pointing at the villain and shouting for him to ‘stop right there!’

She hadn't been nearly as confident or experienced back then, but she was every bit as beautiful. Tobey could remember the enraptured trance into which he'd fallen as he watched her battle her foe. After Kid Potato was defeated and tied up in a bent street lamp, WordGirl had given a triumphant smile, ushering forth a noisy crowd of reporters.

She was barraged with inquiries and the flashing of cameras, but she nonetheless honed in on the question of one specific journalist—a boy about her age. He had asked her how it felt to be a rising star in the battle between good and evil… and she had smiled. It was a warm, tender, disarming smile that had made it into the next day's paper. A smile that Tobey had cherished in its still, black and white form ever since. The smile that had captured his heart. She stood there beaming and resolutely asserted with a finger in the air, “Let me just say this to all the villains out there: if you stand in the way of justice for the people of this city, you can bet I'll be there!”

She had pointed out at the crowd, incidentally right at Tobey, and was met with thunderous applause from everyone except him. He was frozen stiff, staring at her with stars in his eyes. An unfamiliar feeling rose up inside him—a hopeful thrill, unlike anything he'd felt before. To this day he remembered the thoughts that rushed through his mind right then.

If he stood in the way of justice, she would be there. If he became a villain, he would get to see her. She would come to fight him, and that meant that he would be important to her. Someone she noticed instead of just a face in a crowd of onlookers. With his intelligence and his robots, he could do it… and he would.

Tobey came back to the present and sighed as he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. What would Becky say if she knew that WordGirl had been the reason he’d become a villain? That he had started terrorizing the city with his robots for the specific purpose of engaging her to come meet him? Not that his poor choices had been her fault by any means, but his memory of that fateful moment certainly wasn’t doing him any service toward the end of proving he genuinely cared for her _apart_ from her alter ego.

How had everything gotten so twisted around from the way it was at the beginning? Somehow his feelings, which had at first been both inexplicably and inextricably connected with WordGirl, had transferred over to Becky and developed independently of their original source until they scarcely had anything to do with it. WordGirl was the reason he’d fallen for Becky, but she wasn’t the reason he loved her. How could he make Becky understand that, though? How could he explain something that he couldn’t even fully comprehend himself?

Love at first sight…

Tobey thought about the reasons he’d given Violet when she asked him why he loved Becky—the reasons which Scoops himself admitted had nothing to do with WordGirl.

_If the reasons I love her have nothing to do with WordGirl… how could it have been love at first sight?_

His mind reeled at this paradox. There was something _there!_ Something so close that he could almost touch it and so important that it should be obvious. Something about him… about _her_ … about that mysterious, invisible string that connected them.

 _“No, you've always loved_ _ **WordGirl!**_ _”_ she had said. _“You didn't care about_ _ **me**_ _until you found out I_ _ **was**_ _WordGirl!”_

The words still hurt, but thanks to Mother, Tobey now knew that they weren’t _entirely_ true.

_“Sweetheart, you_ _**always** _ _paid special attention to Becky. I noticed it from the moment the two of you met.”_

He _had_ noticed Becky. He may not have harbored any conscious affection for her, but she had been special to him.

 _“So, why did it start with WordGirl?”_ Scoops had asked.

Why indeed… Tobey knew in his heart that his feelings for Becky were sincere, not simply a byproduct of his preexisting feelings for WordGirl. Just looking at Becky made his heart flutter, whether she was wearing her flashy superhero costume or just jeans and a T-shirt. So why had his affections been first captured by WordGirl?

 _“What drew you to her?”_ Violet had asked. _“What was it about her that touched your heart and made her a part of you?”_

He didn’t know. He simply didn’t know. He had been drawn to her the moment he saw her, that day he’d left school in a rage after…

_That’s where_ _ you’re _ _headed if someone doesn’t stop you!_

Tobey caught his breath at the memory. That note had been deeply cutting, but only now did Tobey think back on the specific words and how his young, impressionable mind had processed them. The note hadn’t said ‘if you don’t shape up’ or ‘if you don’t get your act together.’ The exact words were, ‘if someone doesn’t stop you.’

His own words came back in a flurry of similarity. _“I was willfully spiraling out of control toward the bleakest future imaginable and she stopped me.”_

_She stopped me…_

The answer hit Tobey like the fist of a giant robot. His heart started beating faster, and a gasp caught in his throat. He was shaking with excitement as he turned to the blank page in front of him and began writing.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky heaved a flustered sigh and flopped down onto her bed with all the grace of a dead fish. She hadn’t slept all night and she hadn’t been able to focus on anything all day. She’d used her schoolwork as an excuse to shut herself up in her room, but she could get precious little of it done in the state she was in. She couldn’t keep her mind on anything for more than a few minutes before she was once again haunted by that heartbroken look on Tobey’s face, her imagination overcompensating for the dim light in which she’d seen it.

What was wrong with her? She _knew_ Tobey loved her! After everything he had risked, everything he had done for her, how could she _not_ know? Alas, it wasn't an issue of knowing or believing… It was her _feelings_ that were the problem. For whatever stupid reason, her heart was still struggling to accept what her head already knew.

Yet, for all her guilt, frustration, and self-reprimanding, she still felt an undeniable shudder of jealousy whenever she thought back on all the wonderful moments she’d shared with Tobey… and realized that most of them had been as WordGirl, not as Becky.

An unbidden, unwelcome question arose darkly in her mind. _If you actually were two people and he had to choose between you, who do you think he would choose?_

With a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl, Becky climbed out of bed and headed straight for the door. She needed some fresh air, and maybe a change of scenery. _Anything_ that might help to clear her mind.

She opened the door, and Tobey was standing in the doorway, hand extended like he’d been about to knock. Becky gasped, and Tobey’s eyes went wide. An awkward moment of silence passed between them, and they took turns opening their mouths to say something, losing their nerve, and turning their eyes to look at the floor.

Finally, Tobey took a deep breath and said, “Here,” and he held out an envelope which Becky only now realized had been clutched in his other hand.

She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the envelope, looking him hopefully in the eyes.

“Read it now, if you can,” Tobey said, and with that he proactively reached for the doorknob and pulled the door closed, cutting himself off from Becky and leaving her alone in the silence of her room.

A shudder ran down her spine. Perhaps she shouldn’t be, but she was terrified to read that letter. She was also, however, curious. She was more curious. After only a brief moment’s anxious hesitation, she tore the envelope open and ravenously pulled out the letter inside. Her heart hammered in her chest as she began to read.

_My Dearest Becky,_

_I didn’t know my own heart until today. Another piece of myself has fallen into place, and once again I have you to thank for it. I doubt you fully realize just how much of me is you, but if you don’t, you certainly aren’t the one to blame for it. With this letter I hope to shed some light on one of the many mysteries tangled up in my sibylline psyche, and in doing so perhaps ease your mind about the nature of my feelings toward you… toward_ _ both _ _of you._

_I’ve told you before about the difficulties I had in school as a small child. However, I haven’t told you about the day everything came to a head. My classmates and teacher had predicted a future for me that, I now realize, struck fear into my heart. I left school without permission and begun wandering the city streets. I knew the way home, but I felt lost all the same. I was only nine years old and grappling with questions that confound philosophers—questions of identity, of morality, of destiny. I knew the direction my life was heading, and I had begun to wonder if there was any hope for me._

_If I was praying in my heart, then there is surely a kind God in heaven who heard me. At the peak of my hopelessness, I happened upon a crime in progress which was stopped by WordGirl. It was the first time I had ever seen her. She foiled the villain and announced with passionate conviction that she would stop anyone who stood in the way of justice._

_I have thought over that memory so many times, trying to remember the exact moment when I felt the spark of attachment that blossomed into near obsession. I used to think it was the second I saw her, but I’ve since realized that it wasn’t. I remember thinking she was beautiful and wanting to see more of her right away, but the moment she became important to me was the moment she promised that she would stop me if I stood in the way of justice._

_I was afraid of the destination my course was leading to. I wasn’t aware of it then, but I have reflected enough to be sure now that I_ _ wanted _ _to be stopped. I clung to WordGirl like a drowning child clings to a life preserver. On that day, in that precious instant, WordGirl became a symbol of hope to me—the one who would catch me if I fell, or stop me if I went too far._

_Then I met you, Becky._

_You fulfilled every subconscious hope I’d rested on WordGirl and then some. You were kind in the face of my cruelty and you met my aggression with patience and gentleness. You reached out to me in friendship when I was at my worst and showed me compassion when I was at my lowest. I fell and you caught me. I went too far and you stopped me._

_Yes, I had feelings for you as WordGirl from the day I first saw her, and yes, those feelings only carried over to you when I learned your identity. I must admit, with a mixture of shame and relief, that my feelings back then were completely selfish. When I was a villain I admired you, but I didn’t respect you. I depended on you, but I didn’t value you. I longed for your attention, but I paid no heed of my own to your needs and struggles._

_That is no longer so. Today there isn’t a soul on Earth I value or respect more than you, and your needs and struggles are as my own. Put simply, I have always liked you, but it wasn’t until you saved me from myself that I became capable of truly loving you._

_And I do. Please believe that I do love you, Becky, and that I love you for who you truly are. It wasn’t your fame, your costume, or your powers that changed my life and rescued me from the darkness—it was your heart. The tender, dutiful, forgiving heart that you and WordGirl share. WordGirl symbolized hope, but you were the real thing._

_Sincerely and Wholly Yours, Tobey_

Becky held the letter in trembling hands. Had she not spent her tears last night, she would probably be crying. As it was, she just smiled and let the comfort of Tobey’s words soak into her heart. She was so elated, so relieved, and so touched that she didn’t even have the capacity to feel guilty for having pushed him to bare his soul so completely.

She wanted to read his letter over again a few more times, but she resisted the temptation. Tobey had taken great pains to reassure her about the stability of their relationship, and it wouldn’t be right to make him wait any longer than absolutely necessary before she did the same. So, with a thrill of affection rushing through her, she set her letter down on her bed and dashed out the door.

Had she been a little more careless, she might’ve tripped over Tobey in her rush to see him. He was sitting on the floor just outside her room with his back to the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees. He looked up at her with an apologetic expression, but he said nothing.

Becky smiled, heart racing, and promptly sat down beside him. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Doubted me?” Tobey repeated, sounding surprised. “Becky, no one has _ever_ had more faith in me than you. That’s part of the reason I fell in love with you.” He colored, turned to look at the floor, and softly added, “I mean, _real_ love… with the _real_ you.”

Becky never ceased to be amazed by how bewitchingly sweet he could be in these vulnerable moments when he’d checked his ego at the door and instead wore his heart on his sleeve.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek. She had done this once before—as WordGirl—on the night she finally convinced him to stop being a villain. Back then he had been desperate, broken, and afraid, and his reaction to such an unexpected gesture was to go nearly catatonic with shock. This time she’d done it as Becky, and he was a _little_ more composed, but every bit as affected. Just like last time, his whole body went stiff and the color of his face deepened a few shades. He swallowed, stole a quick glance at her, then trained his eyes nervously on the floor and bit his lip.

She smiled, unashamedly gratified by this reaction. It felt good to be reminded that she could be herself and still provoke such a powerful response. She leaned in even closer, rested her head contentedly against Tobey’s shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“So…” Tobey muttered awkwardly, “you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Becky said sleepily. The combined influence of sleep loss and emotional overload were finally getting the better of her now that she was finally at peace.

“And…” Tobey added a moment later, “ _we’re_ okay?”

“Mm-hmm…” Becky mumbled, barely registering his words anymore.

The last thing she was aware of before she drifted off was Tobey’s hand closing slowly around hers.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Sally Botsford trotted happily upstairs after getting home from work, and she was greeted by the most delightful sight. Becky and Tobey were sitting against the wall outside Becky’s room—side-by-side, hand-in-hand. Becky’s head rested on Tobey’s shoulder, while Tobey’s leaned against the top of Becky’s head. They were both fast asleep.

Sally took a moment to silently gawk at them, then tiptoed into her own bedroom and returned with a camera and a blanket. She discreetly snapped a photo, grateful that neither of the teenagers stirred at the sound of the shutter.

 _Claire will certainly want a copy of_ _ **this**_ _one,_ she thought with a wave of maternal satisfaction.

She set the camera down on the floor at her feet, then crept up to the sleeping couple and carefully drew the blanket about both of them.

“Sweet dreams, Becky,” she whispered.

« ... »

_There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear._

— _1 John 4:18a_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**-** _**“The known, however terrible, is often easier to live with than the unknown.”** _ **— This quote is actually from a book I read a long time ago called** _**Adoption** _ **by Jeanne DuPrau. Being that Becky is adopted as well as a ravenous bookworm, I figured it stood to reason she may have read that book.**

**-** _**She Knows?!** _ **— Yes, in my headcanon, Tobey’s mom knows about Becky being WordGirl. It was (surprise, surprise) a development from** _**Time to Go Home.** _

**-** _**Tear Spots** _ **— Crybaby that I am, I noticed long ago that my glasses get splattered by little white spots after I’ve cried while wearing them. I always wanted to do something with that in a story. T-T**

**-** _**Evidence of Becky’s Identity Complex** _ **— I didn’t just make up that issue of Becky’s for drama, and that’s why I tried so hard to include mentions of places in the canon that show traces of it. Scoops’s mention of what Becky said about wanting to win a key to the City was in ‘Patch Game.’ What he said about Valentine’s Day was from ‘Cherish is the Word,’ and the general stuff about her relationship with him can be observed in various episodes that focus on the two of them. What Violet said was extrapolated from the main conflict of ‘Rhyme and Reason.’ I didn’t specifically reference them, but two of the episodes that best support my conjecture about the ‘love triangle,’ if you will, between Becky, Tobey, and WordGirl are ‘Department Store Tobey’ and ‘The Robot Problem.’**

**-** _**The ‘Win a Day with WordGirl’ contest** _ **— This was from the episode ‘Win a Day with WordGirl’ (duh) when Tobey, Scoops, and TJ were all competing to win a writing contest with the said prize.**

**-** _**Scoops Suspected Becky Once** _ **— This was in ‘Vocab Bee,’ when Becky was being really obvious about her coming and going from a vocabulary bee while fighting The Butcher.**

**-** _**“You choose who you want to be, and what you want to be like.”** _ **— This quote of Becky’s is from my oneshot** _**The Real McCallister** _ **, which I wrote as a sort of bumper between** _**Saving Tobey** _ **and** _**Time to Go Home** _ **.**

**-** _**Tobey’s Flashback** _ **— I copy-pasted this from chapter 14 of** _**Saving Tobey** _ **, with one small addition to the original version. I always wanted to dig deeper into Tobey’s thoughts and feelings during that scene, and this oneshot gave me the perfect opportunity. :3**

**-** _**Theme Song: “These Ordinary Days” by Jars of Clay** _ **— I think of this song as a sort of abstract representation of Tobey’s feelings as he tries to work them out. He’s realizing that he fell for her because she was an escape from the loneliness and frustration of what had become his normal daily life, and he’s just hoping that honest, sad explanation will be enough for her.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “Butterflies” by Reachback** _ **— And this is the abstract representation of Becky’s side. She knows how she feels, and what she wants from Tobey, but she doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to give it to her. So she’s just trying to fall back on how much she cares about him until she can let go of her insecurities and let their relationship be what it is. I particularly like how some of the lines that were probably meant to be strictly metaphorical can suddenly be halfway literal with Becky. Such as, ‘I'm forgetting how to fly to you’ and ‘sitting on the frozen moon just looking down on you.’ Like, she could actually** _**do** _ **that! Feel free to imagine that’s what she did after she left Tobey’s house in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri** _ **— This one fits a bit awkwardly, but it was such an inspiration while I was thinking about this story that I couldn’t** _**not** _ **mention it. :} I see the first verse and chorus as Becky’s internal feelings—she can’t help feeling afraid and hurt by the shape Tobey’s feelings for her took, but at the same time remembers how hard she fought to pull him out of villainy and knows that by now she loves him, and there’s no turning back on that. The second verse and chorus are** _**Tobey’s** _ **internal feelings—he is determined to search out the honest truth that will allay Becky’s uncertainty and convince her that he really, truly loves her. The bridge and final chorus, then, are the two of them coming together and laying all this out for each other to see so that their respective fears may be laid to rest and their relationship will be strengthened as a result. I love how there’s even a “one step closer” for each of them. :3**


	5. Effable

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episode 'Mecha-Mouse.'** _

**Foreword:**

**The theme of this oneshot was suggested by Cyber Rogue. The story takes place over the weekend following ‘Diffident.’ Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Effable [ **ef** - _uh_ -b _uh_ l] – able to be described in words.

« « « « « … » » » » »

“I’m back!” announced the Narrator. “Had to spend a few days helping my brother move, but I’ve returned at last. Did I miss anything?”

Tobey blinked in surprise, realizing with sudden relief that the Narrator hadn’t been present for the relationship crisis that had unfolded not two days ago. What a lucky break _that_ had been.

“Nope,” Becky announced automatically without looking up from her book. She and Tobey were sitting at the Botsfords’ kitchen table, each with a different volume in front of them. She was reading _Sense and Sensibility_ , while her beau was working on _Pride and Prejudice._

“Nothing interesting happened while I was gone?” the Narrator replied suspiciously. “No earth-shattering discoveries? No monumental developments? No dates?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Tobey asserted, also neglecting to look up from his novel.

“Uh- _huh_ …” The Narrator drawled, plainly unconvinced, “and I trust that if I _had_ missed anything interesting, _you’d_ be honorable and heroic enough to tell me about it, right, WordGirl?”

At this Becky finally looked up from her reading with a conflicted look on her face. After a moment’s silence, she uncertainly muttered, “Suuuuuure…?”

Poor girl couldn’t help it if she had more conscience in her pinky finger than her boyfriend had in his entire body. Tobey was trying to work on that, but he remained convinced that he would never feel any guilt over keeping the Narrator in the dark about personal things that were none of his business.

“So,” the Narrator persisted, “you honestly expect me to believe that you two have been an official couple for two weeks and you haven’t even gone on an official date yet?”

Tobey and Becky looked up at each other, wearing matching expressions of surprised realization.

“Uh…” murmured Becky.

“Goodness, he’s right!” blasted Tobey. “Why haven’t we done that?”

“At least I know I didn’t miss it,” the Narrator mumbled to himself, barely audible.

“Well, it _has_ been a pretty crazy couple of weeks,” Becky defensively pointed out, turning sarcastic as she jabbed a thumb at Tobey and added, “Not to mention _he_ hasn’t _technically_ asked me out yet.”

The Narrator gasped with superfluous dramatic flair.

Tobey blinked, staring at her dumbfounded. _Goodness, she’s right!_

He could hardly believe himself capable of such an oversight. Though, to be fair, they hadn’t become an ‘official couple’ under the most normal of circumstances. There had been no tearful confession or dramatic encounter in the rain. Becky had simply taken advantage of an opportunity to accept his feelings in so subtle a manner that at first, he hadn’t even realized what she was saying.

Tobey shook his head, recovered his bearings, and smiled. “Well, that’s easily remedied.” He stood and cleared his throat, then offered her his hand and dotingly said in his best British accent, “Dear, sweet Becky, would you do me the tremendous honor of accompanying me on some sort of romantic excursion in the interest of deepening our relationship?”

Becky grinned wryly at him and set her hand in his. “Not a perfect definition of ‘date,’ but I’ll give you points for creativity.”

“And I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” said Tobey, and he bent down to kiss her hand with a purposeful blend of reverence and playfulness. Then, grinning with excitement, he asked, “Where should we go? Cirque du Soleil? Sydney Opera House? The Library of Congress?”

“Whoa, easy there, Tobey,” Becky chuckled. “Why don’t we go for something a little more… conventional?” She sighed and added in a murmur, “Honestly, I’ve had _enough_ excitement these past few weeks.”

“Fair enough,” Tobey conceded, thoughtfully tapping his chin. “Hmm… conventional, conventional… That’s tough. I’ll have to give it some thought…”

Becky giggled and rolled her eyes. “Just keep in mind that ‘conventional’ means normal or ordinary.”

Tobey met her patronizing banter with a wan smile and saw an opening to pursue his own agenda. It was a bit underhanded, but at least this way he could frame it in a way that would elicit humor rather than drama. “Well, as long as we’re being ‘technical,’” he quipped, “I don’t seem to recall _you_ ever saying—in conventional terms—how you feel about me.”

Becky looked up at him in surprise. “Didn’t I do that back when we first got together?”

Tobey shook his head. “No, you said, and I quote, ‘subtext.’”

Becky folded her arms and promptly defended, “Well, the subtext _—_ which you _missed_ , by the way—happened to be how I feel about you.”

“That doesn’t count as _telling_ me, Becky,” Tobey stated, folding his arms.

Tobey was careful to maintain a veneer of lighthearted raillery as he argued, but he harbored a secret hope that he would ‘win.’ He didn’t care about getting the better of Becky—not anymore—but he was pointedly aware that the comment he had presented as a simple comeback was absolutely true. Becky had never really told him how she felt. She had accepted him as her sweetheart, so presumably, her feelings toward him were at least _mostly_ good… A lot of what she felt could be reasonably inferred or extrapolated from things she’d said in the past. All the same, Tobey longed to know for sure, and to hear how she would explain them in her own words. What did she think were his best qualities, or even his worst ones? What about him did she find attractive, respectable, or endearing? How long had she reciprocated _his_ feelings?

Becky made a disgruntled face but dipped her head in concession to him. “All right, then. How I feel about you… Hmm…” She stared at the ceiling and frowned in intense concentration, leaving Tobey in thrilling suspense. He could practically feel his heart beating faster in anticipation of her appraisal.

Finally, she turned back to him with a sly smile and mimicked his gestures and tones from earlier as she repeated his own words. “That’s tough. I’ll have to give it some thought.”

Tobey’s heart sank a little even as his wit praised her for a well-played punchline to their joke of an argument. He didn’t want her to feel pressured or uncomfortable, so it was probably better she let the subject drop on a lighthearted note.

Still… _It would have been nice._

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky awoke to a muffled tapping. She groaned and rolled over, and she was greeted by Tobey’s smiling face as he waved cheerfully at her from outside her bedroom window. She frowned in confusion and looked at the clock on her nightstand. Sure enough, it _was_ as early as it felt. A grumble of annoyance rose up in her throat, but she squelched it when she remembered that she’d done the same thing to Tobey last week during her personal crisis. From the looks of his happy grin, Tobey didn’t have such a poignant excuse, and Becky couldn’t decide whether she was glad for that or frustrated by it.

Reluctantly, she got out of bed and stepped over to the window, rubbing her eyes as she opened it. Once she did, she could see that he was sitting inside a robot that vaguely resembled a convertible. It was much smaller than a car, however, and bore itself up on four rocket jets rather than tires. Instead of a dashboard with a steering wheel, it had a shiny control panel that looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Behind this was a single bench seat lined with plush cushioning, and Tobey scooted across its length.

“Milady,” he greeted cordially, gesturing to the empty space he’d cleared beside him. “Your carriage has arrived.”

“What is this?” Becky yawned.

“You like it?” Tobey asked, beaming. He went on in a faux-modest tone, “Just a little something I whipped up for the occasion. It’s equipped with high-octane rocket boosters, heated cup holders, and _better_ than state-of-the-art sound wave dampeners for noise reduction. I’m thinking if calling it ‘The Robousine,’ but I think ‘taxi-bot’ could work as a less formal alternative.”

Becky blinked blearily at him. “Occasion? What Occasion?”

“Why, our date, of course,” Tobey said, as though it should be obvious. “I said 4 AM, remember?”

Becky gave him a flat, groggy stare. “I thought you meant 4 _P_ M.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because 4 _A_ M is ridiculous! Why on _earth_ would we need to meet at 4 AM?”

“Because it’s necessary to the activity,” he explained like it made all the sense in the world. “You said you wanted something more conventional than Cirque du Soleil, and this was the best I could think of without stooping to the inexcusably mundane.”

Becky shook her head and gave up, too tired to logically process this nonsense. Instead, she chose an easier topic for her fatigued brain to harp on. “Isn’t the robot kind of unnecessary since… I can fly?”

Tobey sounded offended as he replied, “Oh, _please_ , Becky, I’m not going to let my girlfriend be the chauffeur on our first date. I have my pride. Come now! We don’t want to be late.”

Becky lacked the energy to argue or inquire further, so she just yawned into her hand and mumbled, “Fine. Let me just get dressed and tell my parents where I’m going.”

“Oh, there’s no need to wake Mr. and Mrs. Botsford. I informed them of the plan yesterday.”

“Uh-huh,” Becky murmured, rubbing her eyes. “So, what _is_ the plan?”

Much to her annoyance, Tobey mysteriously announced, “It’s a surprise!”

“Right,” Becky mumbled. She unceremoniously closed the curtains right in his face and retreated back into her room.

“Dress warmly!” he called after her in a hinting tone.

« « « « « … » » » » »

“Keep your eyes closed,” Tobey instructed as he led Becky away from the ‘taxi-bot.’ She had bundled up as instructed, but the chill morning air still bit at her hands—she’d forgotten to bring gloves—and brushed her nose and cheeks, which was a stark contrast to the warmth of Tobey’s hands across her eyes.

Becky yawned, more for effect than from genuine fatigue. Thanks to the bitter cold she was completely awake by now, though she still didn’t appreciate the hour Tobey had chosen to drag her outdoors. “Tobey, you’re _covering_ my eyes,” she pointed out. “I’m getting the sense that you don’t trust me.”

Blind though she was and though he was walking behind her, she could still visualize the playful smirk on his face as he replied in a smug British accent, “My darling Becky, I would trust you with my _life!_ Just not with my carefully planned surprises.”

Becky put on a fake accent of her own and commented on how he needed to reevaluate his priorities. Nonetheless, she smiled fondly, warmed at his calling her ‘my darling.’ Those words could not lose their meaning for her no matter how facetiously they were spoken.

 _How_ _ **do**_ _I feel about him?_ she wondered, remembering his request the other day. She hadn’t neglected to answer simply to toy with him, she just didn’t know how to tell him what he wanted to know. Her feelings for him were hard to interpret… She instinctively understood them—more or less—but she had no idea how to _explain_ them.

Tobey deserved an answer, though. After how honestly and vulnerably he’d poured his heart into the letter he gave her last week, the _least_ she could do was tell him how she felt about him. She’d just have to figure out how. After all, if _anyone_ should be able to put a difficult concept into words, _she_ should be.

“Okay, open,” Tobey announced, back in his normal voice, and he pulled his hands away from her face.

They were standing in a large parking lot, the sky just turning pink at the eastern horizon, and Becky saw in front of her a hot air balloon. It was still aground but inflated nearly full, and it was in the shape of a giant WordGirl head. A thrill of excitement raced through her, but not without an accompanying twinge of disappointment.

“What do you think?” Tobey asked.

“Tobey, it’s beautiful,” she said, offering him the appreciative smile he deserved.

“Oh, aren’t we modest,” Tobey jabbed.

Becky shot him a playful frown and retorted, “ _You’re_ the one who inflated my head.”

Tobey blinked, then smiled. “Well played, my dear.”

Becky indulged in a triumphant giggle, and she was careful to sound appropriately jovial when she added, “But… I can already fly, you know.”

Afraid she might hurt his feelings, Becky was pleasantly surprised when his response was a cocky smile and an index finger in the air. “Exactly! You’ve taken _me_ flying _dozens_ of times. It’s about time I took _you_ flying, don’t you think?”

Becky smiled, touched by his motive despite her lack of enthusiasm for his method.

“Give it a try,” he said, seeming to sense her feelings. “I guarantee you’ll like it.”

His confidence was contagious, and Becky nodded at him. “All right, then. Up, up, and away.”

With a delighted smile, Tobey grabbed her hand and dashed toward the balloon. She couldn’t help but catch some of his enthusiasm as she followed contentedly after him.

As they approached the massive basket, the balloonist turned from the burner to face them and smiled. “Hullo, there,” he greeted in a familiar voice, waving to them with one hand and placing the other on the edge of the basket. “Welcome to Fairbreeze Tours. I’ll be your sky captain for this flight. My name is—”

“Amazing Rope Guy?”

He wasn’t wearing his costume, but Becky would recognize that spindly form anywhere.

His eyes began flitting around and he spluttered, “What are you talking about? I’m not nearly as talented as _that_ guy. My name’s Larry. See?”

He pointed to a name tag on his shirt that, sure enough, read ‘Larry’ in clear, bold letters. Becky gave him a dubious look, then glanced over at Tobey. The expression on his face indicated that Amazing Rope Guy’s flimsy denial wasn’t fooling anyone. Nonetheless, Tobey gave the guy a crooked smile and awkwardly said, “A pleasure to, uh… make your acquaintance—Larry.”

Tobey gave Becky a meaningful look and subtly cocked his head at the spindly man.

“Uh, yeah,” Becky said, guessing he wanted her to play along. She knew how agitated _she_ felt when her secret identity was in jeopardy, and now that she thought about it, she didn’t want to put Rope Guy through it. Actually, she was impressed that Tobey had shown such consideration for the man’s feelings rather than go along with her in calling him out. It was a refreshing show of maturity on his part—and such a welcome contrast to waking her up at four o’clock in the morning to go _flying_ of all things.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Amaz— _Larry_ said, relaxing. He reached out of the basket to shake their hands, then swung open a little wicker door and ushered them inside. Once they’d climbed in he closed the door behind them and returned to his work at the burner, happily babbling all the while about how good it felt to be up in the air, how pretty the city looked from way up there, and other things that could do little to impress a girl who moonlighted as a superhero.

Becky joined Tobey in the corner of the basket and the two of them continued to watch ‘Larry’ over their shoulders until the Narrator discreetly said, “Huh. Go figure. The Amazing Rope Guy has a day job.”

“Guess crime doesn’t pay that well,” Becky commented.

“Especially if you’re the Amazing Rope Guy,” added Tobey.

The two of them shared a quiet chuckle over that.

“Do you think he can really be trusted to fly this thing safely?” Becky asked.

“If not,” replied Tobey, “I have the utmost faith in your ability to rescue us before we can crash.”

Becky smiled wryly. That was certainly true. There was her secret identity to consider, but if it came down to it, she could always pretend to fall out of the basket and later claim to have saved ‘Becky’ as WordGirl.

“You kids are gonna love the balloon ride,” Larry called to them with firm conviction, oblivious to their gossip about him. “She’s almost inflated enough for liftoff!”

The Narrator snorted a chuckle. “So _that’s_ how she does it!”

“Stop,” Becky muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“Just a few more seconds,” Larry announced, “aaaand… up we go!”

Becky felt the basket jerk unsteadily for a moment as it left the ground. Then it stabilized, and the balloon began to rise slowly up into the air. She was surprised by how good it really did feel. Considering the number of times she had jetted up from the ground and flown into the sky, this gentle floating of the balloon shouldn't have had much to offer _her_ in terms of experience.

Strangely enough… it did. It reminded her of when she was very small and just discovering her powers. Back then she hadn’t flown in a flurry of urgency to deal with crimes and disasters. She had just flown for the sheer joy of flying, of learning _how_ to fly, and of exploring the possibilities it opened to her.

She looked down over the side of the basket and saw the balloon’s shadow slowly shrinking as they gained altitude. The parking lot receded into the distance and more of the cityscape unobtrusively drifted into view. The balloon’s slow ascension gave her time to appreciate this gradual shift in the scenery—to watch as it spread out before and below her.

“What do you think?” Tobey asked, and Becky suddenly noticed that he was standing right beside her.

“It’s nice,” she said, regarding him with a smile. “It’s been such a long time since I flew for _fun_.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tobey said with a chuckle. “Look at this side.”

He took her hand and led her to the other side of the basket, and Becky looked out at the sunrise peeking over Fair City’s eastern limits.

“Oh…” she murmured, shivering from both chill and awe. She was glad she’d heeded Tobey’s charge to dress warmly. The brief spurts of fire into the balloon were worth an occasional burst of heat, but the air up this high was consistently cold this early in the morning.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen the sunrise before,” Tobey muttered.

“Not like this,” Becky replied, not taking her eyes off the magnificent sight. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out flying this early before. Except maybe—”

She suddenly remembered a time, though _at_ the time the sunrise had been the last thing on her mind. It was the night she had finally convinced Tobey to give up villainy—almost two years ago.

 _“What would I be to you if I stopped being your enemy?”_ he had asked her in tears.

 _“My friend,”_ she had replied.

After their heart-wrenching battle that night, she had flown him home at sunrise… and they had never battled again.

“—Except maybe…?” Tobey pressed softly, and Becky realized he was still waiting for her to finish her cut-off sentence. She turned to look at the curious look on his face, and without really knowing why, she laughed. Then she squeezed his hand and looked back out at the spectacular view.

Tobey was just full of surprises, wasn’t he? To think, back then she’d barely felt she could _tolerate_ him, and now here she was in love with him. Her feelings had changed so much! How was she supposed to verbalize them?

Becky looked out at the scenery again and once more marveled at how different it felt to be floating gently above the city as Becky Botsford rather than zipping around as WordGirl. No effort, or worry, or stress—just peace, and calm, and a gentle breeze… and Tobey standing by her side.

“Isn’t it just sublime?” Tobey asked, joining her in looking out at the sky as it changed color.

“Oh, it is!” Becky agreed. “The view is absolutely resplendent.”

“Beguiling,” said Tobey.

“Entrancing,” offered Becky.

“Exhilarating!”

“Ameliorating!”

“Scintillating!”

“Paradoxical!”

“Hey,” Larry inserted, looking at Becky, “Are you sure you’re not WordGirl?”

“Are you sure you’re not the Amazing Rope Guy?” Tobey retorted.

After a brief awkward silence, the balloonist sheepishly murmured, “Uh… never mind.” He pulled on two of the ropes in sequence and the balloon’s course shifted slightly. They began heading toward the woods outside of town.

“Wait, paradoxical?” Tobey muttered quizzically. “Why paradoxical? Doesn’t that mean absurd or self-contradictory?”

“Oh, uh…” Becky had to think for a moment before she could answer. “I guess because… I wasn’t expecting the ride to be all that great.”

Tobey wilted just a bit, and Becky rushed to qualify her words. “I mean, it _is_ great! I just wasn’t _expecting_ it to be because”—she leaned in close to whisper in his ear—“I fly all the time.”

She smiled and placed her hands on the edge of the basket, looking down at the passing forest below. “I expected it to be kind of dull, but instead I absolutely love it! So it’s paradoxical. See?”

As she said the words, she was struck with a realization. That was exactly how she felt about Tobey! She hadn’t ever _expected_ to like him, cherish him, or respect him, but now she did. She hadn’t _wanted_ to feel sympathy, affection, or admiration for him, but now she did. No _wonder_ those feelings were so hard to nail down—they had completely snuck up on her! The _really_ silly thing was that she already knew all this, but she still felt like she was realizing it for the first time. Amazing how something could be staring you in the face for years without you ever seeing it.

She turned to face Tobey and was only slightly surprised to find him gazing not at the scenery, but at _her_. He blushed, but instead of turning away like he usually did when she caught him staring at her, he held her eyes. “I see,” he said, and Becky was confused for a moment before she realized that he was responding to what _she_ had said. He concluded with, “I’m glad I was able to make you happy.”

Becky’s face suddenly felt very warm, and when she raised up her hands to cover her cheeks she shivered at the contrast. Her fingers were _freezing_.

“Are you cold?” Tobey asked with concern.

“Just my hands,” Becky replied. “I forgot to bring gloves.”

Tobey held out his own hands and timidly ventured, “May I?”

Becky hesitated from both confusion and embarrassment, but after a moment she reached out and placed her bare hands into his puffy blue mittens. He rubbed his hands rapidly back and forth, cradling hers between them, and the kinetic friction sent warmth into her fingers. After a moment he bent down just enough to blow a puff of warm air into between her palms.

He repeated this process two or three times while Becky watched him in speechless wonder until finally, she ventured to ask, “Tobey how did you get so sweet?”

He froze, colored, and after a brief silent moment, resumed warming her hands.

“I’ve always been sweet,” he said, not quite mustering the cocky tone he’d likely intended. “Better?”

“Yes, much better,” Becky said with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Now, grab the sleeves of your coat and pull them inside like this,” Tobey said, demonstrating. The result made his arms look like more puffy noodles than human appendages, and the effect was heightened by his waving them up and down for her to see. “This way your coat can keep your hands warm. See?”

“Clever,” Becky replied, biting back her impulse to laugh.

Silly as she knew it would look, she was in good company, so she did as Tobey had done and tucked her hands away in her sleeves. Noodle arms were all you needed in a hot air balloon, anyway. So, she enjoyed the remainder of her paradoxically delightful first date without the use of her fingers. All too soon, it seemed, the balloon set back down in the parking lot and the Amazing Rope Guy dismissed them from the basket.

Tobey chauffeured her back home in his taxi-bot and pulled it up beside her bedroom window. It was time to say goodbye, but Becky was reluctant to go inside her house.

“Thank you, Tobey,” she said, _without_ moving to vacate her seat beside him. “I had a wonderful time.”

“As did I,” he said with a nod. He went quiet for a moment, looking like he had something else he wanted to say.

“What is it?” Becky asked.

Instead of speaking, Tobey took a deep breath as if to steady himself, leaned toward her, and kissed her softly on her left cheek. Instead of pulling away afterward, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

Becky just sat there in his arms, too stunned to speak. Absolutely _full_ of surprises, this boy.

An affected little noise escaped her throat and Tobey suddenly pulled back, looking worried. “Please let me know if I’m overstepping my bounds,” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable! It’s just—I can still hardly believe—”

“Tobey, it’s okay,” Becky assured, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

Tobey smiled, looking relieved. “I’ll… see you soon, then?”

“See you,” said Becky, nodding and smiling warmly.

Reluctantly, she climbed back into her bedroom through the window and turned around to watch the robot fly away, the morning sun bright in the sky behind it. Once it was out of sight she instinctively reached up to touch her burning cheek where, for the very first time, Tobey had kissed her. It had felt like a moment from a sweet, sweet dream—the one part you could remember after waking up.

She heaved a swooning sigh and then marched purposefully to her desk, where she sat down and pulled out a few sheets of her best stationary.

« « « « « … » » » » »

The next day, when Tobey went to get the mail, he found a letter in an unmarked, unsealed envelope. Curious, he pulled it out and started to read.

_Dear Tobey,_

_I’m sorry this took so long. Feelings, I’ve found, are much harder to define than words. Especially my feelings for you. For a while, I wondered if words could even describe them. Words have never failed me yet, though, and I don’t intend to let this be the first time. I doubt I’ll be able to perfectly convey to you what’s in my heart, but I’ll do my best._

_I hope it won’t hurt you too much for me to say—though I’m sure you already know—that for the first two years I knew you, I didn’t like you at all. That started to change when I started to understand what made you the way you were. Ever since I started to see you as a person with dreams, pains, and fears like any other person, my feelings toward you have done nothing but change._

_I’ve seen and experienced some pretty unexpected things in my time, but I can say with perfect sincerity that you have been, by far, the biggest surprise of my life. In all the time I've known you, whether we've been enemies, friends, or something in between, you have never ceased to amaze me. And the way you continue each day to change and yet stay the same has taught me that I can’t take anything for granted._

_With you, I’ve experienced a range of emotions so vast and varied that I don’t even know what to do with them anymore. There are times when I’m frustrated with you, and then times when I’m proud of you—times when you drive me crazy and times when I adore you. Sometimes I can’t believe I settled for you, and other times I feel like I don’t deserve you. Becoming your girlfriend has done to my feelings what becoming WordGirl did to my life… it changed_ _ everything _ _._

_What else can I say? No one can provoke my heart to ardor like you can, Tobey. For better or worse, you have quickly become one of the most important people in the world to me… and I feel that more strongly with each passing day._

_Ever Yours, Becky_

Tobey stood in front of the mailbox holding Becky’s letter in his hand, waiting for the frisson to pass before he dared go back inside the house.

« ... »

_How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!_

— _Psalm 119:103_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Ugh, I hope that came out okay. @_@ I started running out of time and inspiration around the same time, and I had to rush a few parts. I don’t feel like this oneshot is quite up to my standard for quality, but I really liked the idea, and I had a lot of fun executing it. :)**

**-** _**The Narrator’s brother** _ **— For those who may not have seen ‘Mecha-Mouse,’ the Narrator actually** _**does** _ **have a twin brother in the show. XD I noticed that our favorite narrator was conspicuously absent from the previous oneshot, so this business with his brother was my half-baked explanation for where he was. I hope I’m not the only one getting a kick out of this running joke about the Narrator missing important story developments. :}**

**-** _**Larry** _ **— Since, as far as I can tell, there is no canon civilian name for Amazing Rope Guy, I used the name of his voice actor. I actually think it kinda suits him. :P**

**-** _**“My friend.”** _ **— The mini-flashback I showed during the balloon ride is from** _**Saving Tobey** _ **, the chapterfic that started it all. *heaves a nostalgic sigh***

**-** _**Balloon Logic** _ **— When I decided to go with my mom’s idea to have Tobey and Becky go on a balloon ride, I became suddenly aware that, even though I live in a place where hot air balloons are practically commonplace, I’ve never been up in one. *-* I did a bit of research, but my depiction of how balloons work might still be completely flawed. DX Suffice it to say, a balloon ride is now officially on my bucket list.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “Up, Up and Away” by Engelbert Humperdinck** _ **— Ah, the happy memories… When I was a kid my grandma used to play this song for my sisters and me on the cassette player in her car whenever she drove us anywhere. We called it ‘My Beautiful Balloon,’ and it wasn’t until now that I found out what it’s actually called. XD I certainly never thought I’d apply it to a story.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “Way of the World” by Jump 5** _ **— This is a pretty good musical representation of Becky’s struggle to understand and explain her own feelings. Her relationship with Tobey is as confusing as it is wonderful. :3**

**-** _**Theme Song: “Matter of Time” by Michael W. Smith** _ **— And this, in a sense, is Tobey’s struggle with** _**his** _ **feelings. He loves Becky with all his heart and wants to make sure that’s getting through to her, but he also has to be patient with her and wait for her feelings to catch up with his.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “Balloon Ride” by Relient K** _ **— I know, it doesn’t exactly fit, and we already had a balloon song, but… I just had to mention this one anyway. :P It’s about how when you seek God, He rescues you from the confusion of life and things start to make sense. Interestingly enough, I have always seen a vague parallel between Tobey’s relationship with Becky (in my headcanon, that is) and a Christian’s relationship with Christ. I love Jesus because I’m so grateful to him for saving me, and that’s how Tobey feels about Becky.**


	6. Flux

**Foreword:**

**The theme of this oneshot was suggested by my little brother. The story takes place about a week after ‘Effable.’ I should note that the first scene contains hefty spoilers for** _**Pride and Prejudice** _ **by Jane Austen, but if you don’t know the story and don’t want to be spoiled, you can skip that first scene and the oneshot as a whole will still make sense.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Flux [fluhks] – continuous change, passage, or movement.

« « « « « … » » » » »

People had laughed at Tobey for taking a college course in British Literature. More than once he’d been asked, ‘What does _that_ have to do with your major _or_ minor?’ But then, Tobey had never cared much what people thought. By Becky’s benevolent example, he was _learning_ to care… at least a _tiny_ bit… when it _mattered_. In this instance, however, he was confident it didn’t matter in the least whether ‘Brit-Lit,’ as some of his empty-headed classmates so irreverently called it, could contribute practically toward the fields of Robotic Engineering and Computer Science.

He’d taken the course because it brought back fond memories of simpler times. As far back as he could remember his mother used to read books aloud to him, and her favorites had always been classics that hailed from jolly old England. When he was three he was listening to Beatrix Potter, and it wasn’t long after that he’d graduated to Charles Dickens and George Eliot. He would never forget the shock he had felt or the subsequent good-humored smile that had graced his mother’s face when he learned that George Eliot was a woman.

He’d been delighted last week when he’d begun reading _Pride and Prejudice_ at Becky’s house and she had promptly grabbed _Sense and Sensibility_ from her own shelf and began reading beside him. Unfortunately, they both had to stop near the beginning due to the Narrator’s rude interruption. Now he finally had a free afternoon to continue where he left off, and he happily did so.

_Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again._

As Tobey read the novel he felt a completely new stir of appreciation for it. It was no news that he loved the book. Amidst the plethora of classic literature he’d grown up with, he had always harbored a particular fondness for the sharp wit and sparkling personality of Jane Austen. However, never before had he felt so deep and personal a connection to the story. Reading it now he felt, in a sense, like he was reading it for the first time.

_"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt_ _**me** _ _; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men."_

Tobey felt a quiver in his chest and had to stop reading for a moment. Mr. Darcy had never felt so _real_ to him. Never before had he felt such a strong and contradictory blend of sympathy and frustration toward the man, despite having read the novel several times before. Why was that?

Spurred on by a sudden impulse he scarcely understood, Tobey began flipping through the book until he reached chapter 11. His eyes darted across the pages as he scanned for the dialogue that was the linchpin of the entire story, and even when he found it he slowed down only _just_ enough to read it. More to his chagrin than his surprise, Tobey found that certain lines of Elizabeth’s stung as he read them.

“ _I have never desired your good opinion…”_

“ _I have every reason in the world to think ill of you…”_

“ _On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?”_

Tobey’s nerves felt tight as he took a deep breath and apprehensively began to read the young lady’s finishing blow.

“ _From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”_

Tobey was assaulted by memories… his time spent as a villain, his encounters with WordGirl, and the painstakingly gradual changes in their tremorous relationship that had come only after he had resolved to bury his ego and start treating her like the treasure she was.

 _Good heavens,_ he thought, feeling as if the heavens themselves had opened to bestow an inkling of divine wisdom, _Mr. Darcy is_ _ **me**_ _._

Like Mr. Darcy, Tobey had fallen in love with a girl who fervently disliked him, had pursued her in a most insensible manner, and had ultimately recognized that his own shortcomings were to blame for her utter disinterest. It wasn’t until much later, when his goal had shifted from changing his _lady’s_ heart to changing his _own_ , that he succeeded in swaying her affections—and he did so through persistence, kindness, and self-sacrifice.

He flipped ahead once more, almost to the very end, and read with rapt attention Mr. Darcy’s critical confession.

_"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."_

Tobey’s fingers tightened around the book and his heart clenched in his chest as though he had no idea what was going to happen next. However, he spontaneously chose to put the book down without reading Elizabeth’s reply. Jane Austen had, after all, chosen not to divulge her exact words, and in this particular moment of weighty personal revelation, Tobey was craving exact words. The ones that came to him, interestingly enough, were Becky’s.

_In all the time I've known you, whether we've been enemies, friends, or something in between, you have never ceased to amaze me. And the way you continue each day to change and yet stay the same has taught me that I can’t take anything for granted._

Tobey sighed and flopped backward on his bed with a smile on his face and a school of thoughts swimming around in his head. Though he hadn’t been consciously taking his cues from Mr. Darcy, he was gratified to realize that he himself had, upon recognizing his error, also gone about correcting his conduct with mature and reverent attention to his lady’s concerns. He had purposed to treat her like a perfect gentleman, and by her own admission, he had succeeded. If the ending of a classic novel could by any means be a predictor, then he was on his way to a bright and happy future.

Out of nowhere, though, something leaped to mind from among his thoughts, leaving a dark smear on his rosy mental picture. There was a key difference between him and Mr. Darcy—one that could have a real and terrible impact on his happily-ever-after. Mr. Darcy was fabulously wealthy, while Tobey owed the City ten billion dollars in property damage.

He had to fix that.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Tobey wandered downstairs and was surprised to find his mother rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Mom,” he said, “you’re home?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” she muttered in a mildly disgruntled tone, pulling a bag of baby greens out of the fridge as she turned to face him. “I had some extra time today and I felt like something homemade.”

Tobey felt a little pang of shame. Greeting his mother like that was _not_ something the reformed Mr. Darcy would have done.

He cleared his throat and tried to sound as gentlemanly as possible as he said, “Forgive me, Mother. Where are my manners? I’ll make some tea right away!”

Now that he knew he’d been _un_ consciously influenced by the classics, how much better a gentleman could he be if he started imitating them on purpose?

He dashed to his mother’s side and grabbed the kettle from the stove, then held it under the faucet and began filling it. Smiling, he glanced over his shoulder at her, hoping for a good reaction. She just stared at him for a moment.

“Well,” she said finally, sounding impressed. “You seem to be in a good mood. Did something happen?”

Tobey set the kettle on the stove but paused to think for a moment before turning it on. “Well… yes and no… Actually, Mom, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” She pulled a cutting board from the cupboard and started slicing a red pepper.

Tobey looked up at her and earnestly asked, “How do you make money?”

“Why, that’s easy, dear,” she chuckled. “You get a job.”

Tobey’s face fell with disappointment. “A job?”

“That’s how most people make money,” Mom said with a smile.

Tobey cringed, imagining himself sitting on an assembly line performing the same monotonous task over and over again. Even if the very idea of it hadn’t made him feel like defenestrating himself, it would never yield sufficient income to pay back ten billion dollars.

“But,” he amended, “what if you need to make a _lot_ of money?”

Mom stopped slicing to look at him, her expression curious. She took a while to answer, and did so slowly and carefully. “Then, I suppose… you make jobs. You could start a business or… create a new industry.”

Tobey cringed, imagining himself standing by with a clipboard watching people on an assembly line performing the same monotonous task over and over again. “Is there anything that involves less… interaction with people?”

His mother gave a poorly concealed chuckle and shrugged as she began assembling her salad. “It’s risky, but smart people can do well in the stock market. You need some money to start with, though… There’s also good money in real estate these days.”

Tobey groaned. If all the paths to getting rich were as dull as the ones his mother suggested, it was no wonder Mr. Darcy had been a crabby killjoy at the beginning of _Pride and Prejudice_.

“Oh, but Tobey, why are you asking?” Mother chuckled with a smile. “I’m glad you’re trying to think responsibly, but you’re far too young to be worrying about _that_ sort of thing. You should focus on your education and your relationships. There’ll be time enough for money later.”

Tobey gave a halfhearted nod but didn’t otherwise respond. He didn’t feel like explaining his self-imposed duty to pay back all the damages he’d incurred during his stint as a villain. While it was true that he didn’t have any fixed deadline, he didn’t want to have that debt hanging over his head for the rest of his life. The sooner he decided how to pay it off, the better.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky knocked on the front door of the McCallisters’ house and a moment later was greeted at the door by Tobey’s mother.

“Becky! So nice to see you, dear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McCallister,” Becky said respectfully as Claire ushered her through the door.

“You’re here to see Tobey?” She asked the question as though she were stating a fact. “He’s up in his room.”

Becky nodded with a smile and headed for the stairs, but just as she’d set foot on the first step, Claire suddenly said, “Becky… I don’t suppose you might have any idea why Tobey would take a sudden interest in money, might you?”

This question sounded far more inquisitive than her earlier one had. Becky made a curious frown and answered with a question of her own. “Money?”

“He was asking about it earlier today,” Claire explained. “How one might go about earning a lot of money, or some other such business.”

The woman gave a good-natured chuckle, but Becky sensed a trace of uneasiness in the tone of her voice. That was understandable, she thought, considering Tobey’s history. The thought of her son straying from the straight and narrow was probably the poor woman’s worst nightmare, and any behavior that smacked of ignoble character was bound to get her worrying. Fortunately, Becky knew exactly what to say to set her mind at ease.

“Oh, Tobey,” she said with a fond chuckle, affectionately rolling her eyes. Turning to his mother, she proudly said, “I guess he never told you about his resolution, did he?”

“Resolution?” questioned Mrs. McCallister.

“Oh, a resolution is when you decide for sure that you want to do something and you won’t give up until you do it,” Becky defined.

Claire blinked, her expression blank for a moment, and then she smiled. Just then it occurred to Becky that Tobey’s mother surely already knew what a resolution was. Blushing slightly, she silently thanked her for not pointing that out the way Tobey would have.

“So, what is Tobey’s resolution, then?” asked Mrs. McCallister.

Becky straightened and proudly answered, “He wants to pay back the city for all the damage he did as a villain.”

“Oh,” said Claire. She didn’t sound as thrilled as Becky had been expecting—not that she sounded _disappointed_. Mostly she just seemed… doubtful. That was understandable. Ten billion dollars was a _lot_ of money.

“He hasn’t formally committed to it or anything,” Becky added, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s just something he really wants to do.”

She refrained from adding _if he can_. She had a feeling Tobey would resent the implication, and his mother was probably already thinking along those lines.

Mrs. McCallister seemed to relax a bit, and she murmured with a doting look on her face, “Oh, my sweet boy… I never know whether to be proud or worried that he’s so certain he can do anything he sets his mind to.” Turning back to Becky, she softly entreated, “You’ll help him keep his feet on the ground, won’t you?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. McCallister, I have a hard enough time keeping my _own_ feet on the ground,” Becky joked, snorting a little laugh. “But I’ll do my best.”

Claire offered an accommodating little chuckle, and with that, Becky proceeded upstairs toward Tobey’s room.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky opened the door to Tobey’s room and found him pacing back and forth. He was wearing a look of intense concentration that melted into a warm grin as soon as he saw her.

“Becky!” he greeted, rushing forward. Becky thought for a moment that he was going to tackle her with a hug, but at the last moment he halted, as though catching himself, and instead gently grasped both of her hands in his. “I wasn’t expecting you, darling.”

Becky smiled and carefully refrained from chuckling. She still wasn’t used to Tobey’s unique and sometimes awkward flavor of chivalry, but she certainly didn’t want to discourage it by making him feel self-conscious.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” she said, glancing behind him at his desk, which she just now noticed was riddled with various papers and books. “Did I… catch you at a bad time?”

“For you, my dear, that would be impossible,” Tobey assured in his most regal British accent. He then lifted her right hand to his lips and kissed it softly. Becky smiled once more and refrained from asking if he was enjoying his ‘Brit-Lit’ class. Instead, she asked as she casually strode over to his desk, “So, which of life’s great mysteries are we pondering today?”

“Job hunting,” he replied simply, back to his normal voice.

“Job hunting?” Becky repeated with a slight smile.

“On second thought, scratch that. That sounded _far_ too mundane,” Tobey muttered disgustedly. “Shall we say, ‘exploring career opportunities?’”

“Shall we say, ‘thinking of ways to make money?’” Becky chuckled.

“Oh, come on, Becky, that sounds even more mundane than ‘job hunting.’”

Becky giggled and turned to his desk, where she started fingering through his reading materials. They were mostly brochures advertising various companies and industries, with a few books on finance and career building shuffled in.

“You know, Tobey,” Becky said, trying to sound encouraging, “I think it’s _great_ that you’ve resolved to pay back the damages from when you were a villain… but you really don’t need to worry about how you can earn the money just yet.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about what I _can_ do,” Tobey smugly corrected. “The trouble is settling on something that I actually _want_ to do.”

Becky blinked. “Huh?”

Tobey went on, sounding completely sure of himself. “Well, there are any _number_ of ways a genius like me could earn ten billion dollars, but… wouldn’t it be a missed opportunity to choose one that isn’t also a fulfilling occupation?”

Becky blinked again. “You mean, you’re thinking about… the future?”

That was a completely different ballgame from the issue she’d expected to come up here and discuss with him. Somehow she felt both relieved and a little intimidated by it.

“But of course,” Tobey affirmed with a confident nod. “Genius or no, earning that much money is going to take quite some time—time I’d certainly prefer not to spend doing something I don’t enjoy. Plus, there are other factors to consider as well, and sadly they rule out some of my best options.”

“What do you mean?” asked Becky.

“Well, for example, being an inventor would certainly be exciting, but income from it would depend too much on the whims of the marketplace. I could start some sort of technological firm, but running it would be unbearably tedious and would demand far too much of my time…”

He babbled on, and Becky repressed a sigh. In moments like this when she was so blatantly reminded of what a genius Tobey was, she couldn’t help feeling a little… lost while trying to talk to him. He was on a completely different level than her when it came to this sort of thing, odd though it was to admit. Typically she was all about making plans for the future, but hers were almost always limited in scope to a week or at most a month down the line. And now here was Tobey trying to map out his _career_.

“What do _you_ think?” he asked out of nowhere, as if he’d read her mind and then chosen the question based on how effectively it would exacerbate her discomfort.

“What do _I_ think?” Becky repeated, caught off guard.

Tobey nodded, smiling eagerly. Huh. He actually cared what she thought. Becky was both touched and unsettled by that. It was embarrassing how unequal she felt to advising him about this.

“Oh, I don’t know, Tobey,” she said, shaking her head. “My talents and interests are really different from yours. I couldn’t say what would make _you_ happy.”

“Well, what would make _you_ happy?” Tobey bounced right back at her. “What would _you_ like to do?”

Becky gave him a weak smile. “I don’t see how knowing that would help _you_.”

“Are you kidding? It would help _tremendously_.”

He sounded so sincere that Becky didn’t have the heart to simply brush him off. So, she thought for a moment, and then she looked up at Tobey and gingerly said, “Well… I always thought it would be fun to work in a library.”

“You’d want to be a librarian?” Tobey chuckled, sounding equal parts incredulous and admiring.

“Well, not necessarily,” Becky amended, wondering if she was blushing. “I just love being around books. If I could get paid to take care of them and help other people enjoy them, it would definitely make me happy.”

Tobey gave a thoughtful nod. “It would certainly suit you… What else would you enjoy?”

He asked this with an enthusiastic sparkle in his eye, like he was excited to learn more about her. Before she could respond, however, he held up a hand and said, “Wait, let me guess… I’ve got it! Being an English teacher!”

Becky blinked in surprise. Why hadn’t _she_ thought of that? “That would be fun,” she said, quickly adding, “But I kind of already do that.”

“Exactly, so why not get paid for it?” Tobey pointed out with a happy shrug.

Becky gave him a warm smile, but it wilted as quickly as it had formed. With a sigh, she somberly commented, “I’ve heard that teachers don’t get paid much, though.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” asserted Tobey without the slightest hesitation.

“Sure it does,” Becky argued, just a tiny bit flustered by the flippancy of his dismissal. “I may not have ten billion dollars to pay off, but I still need to earn a living.”

“Oh, _please_ , Becky, don’t insult my capabilities,” Tobey grumbled with a roll of his eyes. “You’re not going to be one of those tragic heroes from the comic books who’s constantly burning the candle at both ends trying to maintain her thankless superhero duties _and_ a life-draining regular job. Taking care of the _city_ will be your job. Taking care of you will be mine.”

Becky blinked in surprise, then beamed. How was it that Tobey could say something so unbelievably sweet and yet make it sound like he was just defending his own pride? In a moment of awed realization, she was struck by something… Throughout this conversation, she had been thinking of _her_ future and _Tobey’s_ future as two separate things, but Tobey had been thinking of them as _one_. In his mind, the two of them were already a team for life, destined to share in each other’s trials and achievements. No wonder he felt that knowing what she wanted would help him decide on his own career path.

“But… don’t you have enough to worry about with your debt to the city?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little guilty that she was such a huge factor in such an important decision of his.

Tobey gave her a serious look, and a few seconds later he said in an equally serious tone, “Becky, let me make something clear. My first responsibility is to _you_. I owe the city money. I owe you my life.”

For a moment, Becky was speechless. She stared at Tobey, smiling tenderly, and only when he started looking a little too pleased with himself did she manage to clear her throat and compose herself.

“Well,” she muttered, trying to sound pragmatic, “if you don’t think I’ll need to work, why ask me about what job I’d want?”

“Because I know better than to think a smart girl like you would be happy just sitting around all day,” Tobey replied, folding his arms and nailing the pragmatic sound Becky had been going for. “You should do work that fulfills you because you love it, not work that bores you because you need money.”

Becky hesitated and forced herself to fold her own arms, if only to give the appearance that she was thinking more than feeling. Boy, Tobey was on _fire_ today. If she let on how effectively his words were tugging at her heartstrings, she would never be able to win an argument with him again.

With a sigh of effort, she divorced her brain from her heart and forced herself to ponder logistics for a moment.

“Okay,” she said at last, managing to keep a level tone. “Then, it probably shouldn’t be a regular job with normal working hours. It’s been hard enough fitting WordGirl into my _school_ schedule, and it would be really nice if I didn’t have to worry about getting fired for abandoning my post because I had to leave work to stop a crime.”

“Now you’re thinking!” Tobey praised, pumping his arms at his sides.

“I really do want to work in a field involving words, though,” Becky hastened to add. Tobey’s enthusiasm had infected her, and now she was eagerly dreaming up aspirations she hadn’t even known she had. “I love to write. Maybe… I could be an author?”

“Oh, Becky, that’s a fantastic idea!” Tobey exclaimed with a smile. “You’d be a _stupendous_ author!”

“It might get a little lonely, though, being cooped up by myself for so long all the time. Part of me would rather do something like teaching that lets me be around people.”

“Why not do both?” Tobey asked rhetorically with a shrug. “You could be a teacher by weekday, a superhero by weeknight, and a bestselling author on weekends!”

Becky felt herself blushing. Ironic how humbling it was to be confronted by just how much faith Tobey placed in her. It was enough to snap her out of her swoon, and she reluctantly dragged herself back to reality.

“It’s too soon to decide, though,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve still got three years of high school, after all.”

Tobey smiled. “By all means, take your time. There’s no need for you to hurry.” He paused for a moment, and the smile slowly vanished from his face. He heaved a sigh that seemed to deflate him and somberly murmured, “ _I_ , on the other hand…”

“Tobey, what are you talking about?” Becky challenged. “You don’t need to hurry, either.”

“Oh yes I do,” contradicted Tobey. “I’m already finished with high school, after all.”

“All the more reason not to hurry!” Becky exclaimed. “You’re still only fourteen years old. Why should you have to make a final decision about your eternal destiny before your brain is even finished developing?”

Tobey made a funny face at that—like he was wondering if he had grounds to be insulted by her pointing out that particular fact.

Becky exhaled her frustration in a sigh and adopted a soft, comforting tone as she said, “Tobey, I don’t want you to feel pressured about this. Your debt to the city can wait as long as it needs to… and it’ll be years before you even need to _think_ about taking care of me.”

“But I don’t _want_ to wait,” Tobey said, his voice infused with an earnest vulnerability that was rare in him. “I want to know _now_.”

“ _What_ do you want to know now?” Becky asked.

Tobey quietly held her gaze for a moment, his eyes full of uncertainty, and then he looked down at the floor between them. “I want to know for sure that… I’ll be able to… make you happy.”

Becky didn’t even know how to respond to that. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. Finally, after letting the words and the sentiment behind them sink in for a moment, Becky found the composure to sigh and roll her eyes.

“Tobey, you _already_ make me happy,” she asserted with firm conviction. She carefully refrained from adding ‘silly,’ and instead said with a bright, hopeful smile, “I have an idea.”

« « « « « … » » » » »

With a heavy sigh of finality, Becky licked the envelope and carefully pressed the flap closed, sealing away her letter to herself for the next five years.

She had suggested they make a time capsule, sort of as a way of putting a pin in the whole ‘eternal destiny’ conundrum without simply forgetting about it. Tobey had liked the idea, and Becky had breathed a sigh of relief at no longer having to worry that he might rush off into some ill-conceived fundraising venture. The plan was for each of them to write two letters—one for themselves and one for each other—to be exchanged, opened, and read in five years’ time.

Becky held the envelope in her hands, feeling almost as though she were holding some enchanted parchment from a fairy tale. It was surreal to think that she would open it when she was nineteen years old and read the words she had just finished writing a few minutes ago.

Suddenly she found herself second-guessing this whole idea. Had she said all the right things to herself? To Tobey? Was it even possible to know? There was no telling where they would be in five years. What if the words of her present self seemed completely ridiculous in the future?

“Are you finished?” Tobey asked, and Becky turned to look at him. He had set up shop in one corner of her room, having sent a robot to fetch supplies and materials from his own room, and appeared to be in the middle of a _serious_ robotics project. He had metal components strewn all about his feet and black smudges smeared all over his skin.

“Yeah, I think so,” Becky said with a nervous smile. She couldn’t let herself get bogged down by what-ifs. The point of a time capsule was to create a tangible connection between the future and the past, not to try and _predict_ the future _from_ the past.

“Well, it’s about time!” Tobey exclaimed, shattering Becky’s serene philosophical contemplations.

She wheeled on him in her surprise. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well, in the time it took you to finish your letters,” Tobey boasted, “I finished both of mine _and_ completed construction of my newest invention.”

Becky frowned and retorted, “Well, it’s not my fault if you don’t have anything interesting to say. How many pages did you write, two?”

“How many did _you_ write, fifty?” Tobey retorted right back at her. “But enough of that. I’d like to introduce you to my latest brilliant creation. Say hello to… The Time Capsule Bot!”

He held up a brown and gray contraption that looked like a shoebox cobbled together from different pieces of scrap metal.

Becky frowned inquisitively. “Time Capsule… _Bot_?”

“Yes, indeed.”

He looked at her with an expectant smile, his eyes practically begging her to inquire further so that he could brag about it. Becky raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t exactly inclined to oblige him after his uncalled-for tease, but she _was_ genuinely curious. With a smirk and a good-natured yawn, she crossed her arms and muttered as lethargically as possible, “Okay, I’ll bite. Why, pray tell, does the time capsule need to be a robot?”

Tobey grinned with over-the-top enthusiasm and stuck a finger in the air. “To answer that, I shall demonstrate how she works.”

With the device in hand, he rushed over to Becky and set it down on the desk in front of her. It was about the size of a coffee can but _far_ more imposing now that she saw it up close. Incongruity aside, the multicolored metal plates from which it was primarily constructed looked like they could stop a bullet. With a proud grin, Tobey opened the device, revealing a numerical interface on the inside of the lid.

“First, we set the desired holding time,” he announced, punching a five-year countdown into the number pad. “Then we place our items inside the capsule, along with a DNA sample from each of us.”

“A DNA sample?” Becky asked incredulously as Tobey deposited all four of their letters inside the small robot. “Why a DNA sample?”

“Well, so it knows who to open for, of course!” Tobey replied. “After the timer has completed its countdown, the Time Capsule Bot will power up, dig itself out of the ground, and use its bio-scanner to locate us. It will not open for anyone except us, and not until it is in the presence of _both_ of us and _no one_ else.”

“Wow.” Becky drawled. “High-tech time capsule.”

“Well, what were you expecting?” Tobey asked, hands placed indignantly on his hips. “A little _wooden_ box that we’d have to dig up _manually_ in five years, only to find the lid full of holes and the precious mementos inside chewed to bits by earthworms?”

Becky gave a snarky chuckle and placidly said, “It’s cool, Tobey, but don’t you think you might’ve gotten a _little_ carried away with the complexity?”

“Well, I _was_ going to just leave it as a reinforced exoskeleton,” Tobey explained, “but then you took forever on your first letter, so I decided to add the bio-scanner.” Becky frowned, and he went on, “Then you took another forever on your second letter, so I added the thrusters. Then—”

“Let’s just go bury this thing, okay?” Becky groaned.

“As you wish,” Tobey said with a polite nod. He plucked a hair from his head, prompting Becky to do likewise, and they both placed their ‘DNA samples’ on a tiny tray which opened up from just below the number pad.

“Well, that’s it, then,” Tobey announced, and Becky felt irrationally nervous as he began to close the lid.

“Wait!” shouted a voice out of nowhere. Becky and Tobey turned in unison to see TJ come racing into the room waving what looked like a colorful little toy over his head. “Don’t close it yet!” he entreated, “I want to put something in!”

He threw the item in his hand into the time capsule, and the two confused teens peeked inside to see what it was.

“Your WordGirl doll?” Becky asked, frowning inquisitively at her little brother. “Why would you want to put _this_ in a time capsule?”

TJ folded his arms and curtly said, “Hey, I’ve got a financial future to think about too, you know.”

Becky blinked. “But… what does that have to do with your WordGirl doll?”

“Action figure,” TJ corrected. “And have you seen the collectibles market? In five years, this thing’ll be an antique! It could be worth millions!”

“Excuse me,” blustered Tobey, “but this is a private, personal, sentimental activity between Becky and I, not a storage service.”

Becky almost laughed. It was still weird hearing Tobey use his regular non-British voice around her brother, _especially_ when sassing him.

“Yeah, TJ, what he said,” she inserted once she’d composed herself.

To her surprise, TJ switched to his kissing-up voice and flatteringly said, “But with all those cool features you worked in, it would be a shame to waste the space.”

Again, to Becky’s surprise, TJ’s ploy worked like a charm. Tobey softened immediately and softly muttered, “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Tobey!” Becky admonished.

“Oh, let him put his doll in,” argued Tobey. “What could it hurt?”

Becky rolled her eyes but ultimately smiled also. It was _good_ to see Tobey and TJ getting along—however ridiculous their peaceful interactions might appear.

“Okay, fine,” she sighed.

TJ smiled excitedly. “Thanks, guys! I’ll remember you when I’m rich!”

And with that, the cocky 11-year-old trotted out of the room.

Tobey turned to Becky with an incredulous puzzled look that seemed to say, ‘Is that kid for real?’

Becky just playfully shook her head and said, “Come on, Tobey. This robot’s not gonna bury itself… is it?”

Tobey tapped his fingers together and eyed her with a sly grin.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Becky looked up at the high branches of the tree in front of her, and a feeling of nostalgic fondness washed over her. This tree marked the location of WordGirl and Tobey’s last battle—like, their _last_ battle, as in the last battle they would ever have. It had been almost two years ago.

“Wow,” she murmured softly. “There it is… It’s so weird seeing it again.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tobey. He was standing at her side holding the Time Capsule Bot.

Becky turned to look at him and shrugged sheepishly. “Well, the last time I was here was the day we fought here.”

“Really?” Tobey looked incredulous. He turned from her to gaze up into the tree’s high branches with a wistful, longing look on his face. “I come here all the time.”

Becky chose not to voice her surprise at hearing this. It made all the sense in the world, after all. Why should she be surprised? One of these days, Becky resolved, she would finally get it through her head just how much those memories meant to Tobey. Until then, however, she feared she was destined to repeat the same bittersweet epiphany over and over again—the sad, beautiful realization that Tobey’s whole world revolved around _her_. His favorite memories were those times he’d spent with her, and his favorite places were those where he’d spent time with her. And his memory of the time they had spent together in this tree represented the moment when her presence in his life had changed _everything_ for him.

 _Well,_ she thought, heart quavering in her chest, _that certainly explains why he wanted to bury our time capsule here._

Swallowing and looking up at the leaves swaying in a gentle breeze, she softly said, “Maybe we should come here together more often.”

Tobey flashed her an enthusiastic smile and happily commented, “It would make a great picnic spot.”

Becky smiled back a bit wryly and replied, “It’ll make a good time capsule spot first.”

“Oh, right!” He hefted his newest robot and stepped up to the base of the tree. Becky stepped up beside him as he set it down between two exposed roots and pressed a button on its lid. It hummed to life. A red indicator light on its side blinked red a few times, and then the Time Capsule Bot brandished several whirling metal appendages that resembled fan blades and began boring itself into the ground. Shortly after it had disappeared beneath the earth’s surface, it silenced, leaving a coffee-can-sized hole in the ground where it had been just a moment ago.

Tobey looked up at Becky, his smug eyes soliciting praise.

Becky snorted a chuckle and teased, “What? No little arm that pokes out and covers up the hole?”

An undeterred Tobey shrugged and flippantly retorted, “Well, if you’d just written a few more novels worth of letter, Miss Future Author, I might’ve had time to incorporate that feature.”

Becky chose to laugh instead of retort, and she was happy with that decision.

Tobey got on his knees and began manually scooping dirt over his buried treasure. Becky knelt at his side and joined him, and a few moments later their time capsule’s hiding place was complete. For a while, they just sat there staring at the little mound of dirt, not saying a word. Finally, Tobey broke the silence by saying, “So… now what?”

“Now,” Becky sighed, “I guess we just try to make the next five years good ones.”

It was easy to _say_ that, but how were a couple of teenagers supposed to pursue such a vague goal? The future was so uncertain, and that was because the present was so inconstant. Everything was changing so fast, and there was no telling where the flow of time was taking them.

Where _would_ the two of them be in five years? For that matter, _what_ would they be? A librarian and an inventor? A teacher and an entrepreneur? A prize-winning writer and a scientist? It was staggering for Becky to think that someday she might be shelving a book Tobey wrote in her own little bookshop, or hovering over his shoulder as he read a book _she_ wrote.

In the midst of her wondering and worrying, Tobey smiled at her, and she was shocked at how easy she found it to smile back, like the two of them didn’t have a care in the world.

“Well,” he said with a hopeful shrug, “here’s to the next five years, then.”

His smile was one she had seen a thousand times. It hadn’t changed—not really—since before the two of them were even friends. It was a comforting reminder.

“Here, here,” Becky replied, taking Tobey by the hand.

Sure some things would always be changing, but the important things were constant. Indeed, there was no telling what the future would bring, but for the present, it was enough to know that she and Tobey would be facing it together.

« ... »

_Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus._

— _Philippians 4:6-7_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**-** _**Raised on the Classics** _ **— This is something about Tobey that was never stated in the canon, but I think it’s a reasonable extrapolation from what we know about him. We know that, despite being most undeniably American, Tobey is enough of an Anglophile that he decided to fake a British accent everywhere he goes. That to me says ‘raised on British literature.’ ;P Also, being that he’s very intelligent and clearly loves reading (and not just non-fiction, as we can clearly see in ‘Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum’), I think it’s a fair estimation that he probably read and/or was read to quite often as a little tyke. As for my specific reference to** _**Pride and Prejudice** _ **, my reasons should be clear enough from the story itself.**

**-** _**Lunchtime** _ **— You’d be surprised how hard a time I had deciding what Claire should be having for lunch. #_# At first I wanted to have Tobey make it for her, which meant it needed to be something quick and simple that Tobey could fix while they talked, but also something sophisticated enough that I could imagine her coming all the way home from the DA’s office to eat it. It was my brilliant little sister who had the idea to just have him brew her some tea. *-* For a brief moment, I actually considered having her pull a bag of tortillas out of the fridge, but then I remembered that Fair City, being coastal and all, is probably nowhere near New Mexico. Not that tortillas don’t exist in other states, I just… kinda figure they become less and less common the farther you get from Mexico (couldn’t find ‘em** _**anywhere** _ **in Japan *-*).**

**-** _**“Maybe… I could be an author?”** _ **— I’ll confess that I projected myself on Becky a bit here. When I was a kid, being an author seemed akin to having superpowers. I would never have guessed back then that writing would end up being my own vocation of choice. Lest anyone accuse me of abusing my power, though, I want to note that Becky’s penchant for writing** _**is** _ **established canon. It’s from the episode ‘Becky Knows Best.’**

**-** _**The Tree** _ **— The tree they bury their time capsule under in the last scene is a reference to the climax of** _**Saving Tobey** _ **. It’s where they have their final battle before Tobey gives up villainy once and for all. My sister Lucinda Cottontale had the idea to have it be where they put their time-capsule, and I loved the significance of it. :) If you’d like to check it out without having to read the whole fic, or if you’ve already read** _**Saving Tobey** _ **and you want a refresher, the battle/resolution scenes are covered in the chapters ‘Parapraxis’ and ‘Exculpate.’**

**-** _**Theme Song: “At Least We Made It This Far” by Relient K** _ **— This song is about wondering about the future but ultimately falling back on the comfort that you made it this far, and that the one you love will be there with you through whatever comes. It’s not a** _**perfect** _ **fit for this oneshot, but I still like the feel it captures.**

**-** _**Theme Song: “In My Heart” by Jump 5** _ **— This is one of the few songs I’ve found that works both ways—Tobey thinking about Becky and Becky thinking about Tobey—with the fun bonus that both guys and girls are singing at the same time. :P**

**-** _**Theme Song: “I Will Be Here” by Steven Curtis Chapman** _ **— This song is about making the decision to stand by someone, through hell or high water, come what may. This sort of commitment is rare in the world today, and I must say I love seeing it blossoming in, of all places, this unlikely relationship between two kids who used to practically hate each other.**


	7. Grandiloquent

**Foreword:**

**Whoo! I’m back! What year is it? *-***

**Oy, I sure fell off the wagon with this one, didn’t I? X( If anyone is still reading, I must thank you dearly for your patience and apologize for my long absence. I’ve been fandom-hopping since last I updated and thus having a hard time reclaiming my drive to work on this story. :( BUT! I’ve been getting kicked in the pants by my loving siblings about how I need to finish what I start, and at this point I think I’m ready to give this thing another try. *weakly strikes a determined pose***

**Anyway, in recognition of my ridiculous hiatus, I’m going to advance time a bit in the story as well. Admittedly, I’ve been regretting my decision to have Becky and Tobey start dating at the tender age of 14 (honestly, when I was 14, I barely felt capable of doing Algebra, let alone dating o_0). It’s too late to worry about that, but I want to at least let them get older as the story progresses, otherwise I won’t have a prayer of getting to their wedding before the end! XP So, as of this oneshot they’re both 15, and Becky is a Sophomore while Tobey is in his second year of college.**

**The theme of this oneshot was suggested by iapab97. The story takes place about 8 months after ‘Flux.’ Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Grandiloquent [gran- **dil** - _uh_ -kw _uh_ nt] – speaking or expressed in a lofty style, often to the point of being pompous or bombastic.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Tobey strolled at a leisurely pace down the halls of Fair City University, toting his English Linguistics textbook in a lax grip. He should probably be more concerned that he was already ten minutes late, but when it came to Professor Beauregard’s class, it was hard for him to drum up any of his usual motivation to be punctual.

He stopped upon reaching the classroom, took a deep breath, and gripped his textbook a little tighter.

“Lord, give me patience, and I need it now,” he muttered under his breath. The brief moment of amusement was enough to put a much-needed smile on his face before the dreaded session put a damper on his whole day.

Head held high, he stepped reluctantly into the classroom.

Sure enough, the stout, gray-haired, primly-dressed Mr. Beauregard paused his lecture and turned to Tobey with a disappointed scowl on his face. He sarcastically spouted, “Well! Our prodigal prodigy has bestowed upon us the approbation of his attendance.” He made a show of looking at his watch and curtly added, “Mr. McCallister, I daren’t think a wunderkind such as yourself might be incognizant of the time, and yet here you are! One fifth of an hour tardy.”

Tobey almost frowned right back at him. Instead, he put on a chipper smile and said, “Actually, I’m about 1460 days early.”

A guarded murmur of laughter rose from the rest of the class, most of whom were in their early 20’s. Perks of being a genius. Tobey relished one more smile, but Professor Beauregard was not amused as evidenced by the tight-lipped frown he leveled at Tobey.

“I would advise caution, Mr. McCallister,” he said in a warning tone. “You may find that your fortunate possession of extraordinary mental faculties cannot purchase sufficient grace to compensate for your impertinence.”

Tobey frowned indignantly. He’d taken three months of this nonsense, and he couldn’t contain his frustration any longer. With a roll of his eyes, he grumbled, “Oh, _honestly_ , Professor, why can’t you just say, ‘Watch it, wise guy, or your brain won’t be enough to keep your mouth from getting you in trouble?’”

That example was too crude and oversimplified even for Tobey, but at the moment he figured a bit of crudeness was warranted to balance the man’s copious verbosity… his wordiness, that is.

The class sniggered again, a bit more hesitant this time, and again went silent as Mr. Beauregard turned his glare on them.

“Are your plucky teenage sensibilities offended by my capacious vocabulary, Mr. McCallister?” he muttered coldly, turning back to Tobey with a pompous grin.

“Not at all, Tobey replied in a matching tone. “Quite the contrary. I think your vocabulary is offended by _you_.”

A shocked murmur rose up from the class as the professor leveled a composed glare at Tobey. Tobey stood his ground, unfazed. He would probably regret his ‘impertinence’ later, but later was later, and that outburst had been building up for a _long_ time.

« « « « « … » » » » »

“Tobey!” Becky yelled, flinging open his bedroom door as she stormed inside. “What’s this I hear about you failing English Linguistics?”

She had hardly believed her ears when Mrs. McCallister had told her. Tobey was a genius as _well_ as an Anglophile. There was no way _he_ could be failing an _English_ class… unless he’d gotten in trouble for something unrelated to his language skills.

 _Gee, what are the chances of something like_ _ **that**_ _happening to_ _ **Tobey**_ _?_ she complained inwardly, flustered by how sarcastic she sounded even to herself.

Tobey heaved an exasperated sigh and flopped backwards in his chair. “Bless my mother and her melodramatic overreactions,” he grumbled under his breath.

He swiveled around to face Becky, abandoning the mess of gears and wires on the desk in front of him. With a huff he pulled up the goggles on his face and let them rest instead on his head, revealing an annoyed, grease-smudged grimace that would have been adorable if Becky weren’t so cross with him.

“I did not _fail_ my Linguistics class,” he stated firmly, pointing a screwdriver at her for emphasis.

“You didn’t?” Becky muttered. She raised a hand to her chest and sighed with relief. “Oh, that’s good to hear! So… what’s the problem, then?”

Tobey crossed his arms and passionately grumbled, “The problem, Becky, is that my professor is a patronizing, insufferable, _blatherskite_.”

He wheeled back around and set upon the gizmo in front of him with his screwdriver. It looked more like he was attacking it than working on it.

Becky blinked in surprise. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use the word ‘blatherskite’ in a sentence before.”

“Oh, lucky girl,” Tobey moaned dramatically, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling. He swiveled back around to face Becky again and complained on. “Professor Beauregard uses the most obscure words imaginable in every sentence he utters!”

Here he threw up his hands in exasperation and flung his little tool—by accident, Becky presumed—so hard that it impaled itself in the ceiling. Becky levitated up to the ceiling to retrieve the innocent screwdriver, continuing to listen as Tobey grumbled on.

“The man has no respect for the dignity of big words and just—throws them around like confetti with no regard for whether they’re necessary or even appropriate!”

Becky felt a tingle of indignation prickle her skin. “Wow,” she muttered, holding out the screwdriver for Tobey in an open palm, “that _does_ sound frustrating.”

“It’s _infuriating!_ ” Tobey bellowed, snatching the poor thing from her hand by its working end. He pointed it at her again, this time with the handle. “And I wasn’t afraid to tell him so!”

“Wait, what?” Becky muttered, suddenly concerned again. There was no way to be sure without additional details, but it wasn’t hard to imagine how that bare-bones account could qualify as ‘getting in trouble for something unrelated to language skills.’

“You heard me!” Tobey exclaimed, slamming his screwdriver down on the desk in front of him. “And now Professor No-Regard is insisting I write a formal letter of apology which he says will account for 50% of my final grade.”

Becky blinked. Well, that certainly explained why Mrs. McCallister had been so worried. Trying to get Tobey to apologize for something he wasn’t actually sorry for was like trying to convince Eileen that it wasn’t her birthday.

Becky heaved a flustered sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tobey, I understand your frustration, I really do… BUT, as important as it is to use the right words rather than the fanciest words, it’s even _more_ important to know when to keep your mouth shut!”

Tobey snorted, crossing his arms over his puffed-out chest. “I have no regrets! I suffered in silence for as long as I could bear it, but he pushed me over the edge. I will contain my righteous fury no longer!”

He thrust a fist passionately into the air.

Becky rolled her eyes. She suddenly had a pretty good idea of what had inspired the term ‘rebel without a cause.’ Containing her own righteous fury, she took a deep breath. If these five years of knowing Tobey had taught her anything, it was that pushing toward a solution was _far_ more constructive than getting locked into futile argument about the problem.

“Look,” she said, softly pressing her fingertips together. “You understand that life’s not always fair, right? Sometimes you have to deal with things that are unfair so that you don’t have to suffer consequences that are even _more_ unfair. I think you should just go ahead and write the letter.”

Tobey gave her a sly, challenging grin and muttered in his best British accent, “Why, Becky Botsford, are you encouraging me to be dishonest?”

Becky crossed her arms and dryly retorted, “Tobey, I’m a superhero with a secret identity. Dishonesty is a daily necessity for me.”

Tobey blinked and went quiet, staring at her like the statement was somehow both an obvious truth and a shocking revelation.

“W-Well,” he blustered, back to his normal voice. He quickly recovered himself enough to cross his arms and firmly announce, “I refuse to lose to that man! I’m Theodore Tobey McCallister the Third, and I don’t want to give a pompous, blithering know-it-all the satisfaction of pressuring me into submission!”

“Well, I’m WordGirl, and I don’t want to date a guy who failed English Linguistics,” Becky retorted.

Tobey went quiet, again with the ‘shocked even though that was obvious’ look.

Becky heaved a sigh and said, more gently this time, “Tobey, don’t let your ego sabotage your future. So you write one insincere apology, so what? It doesn’t mean you _lost_ , it means you didn’t give up halfway through the game. Just write the letter.” She laced her hands together and willed extra charm into her smile as she added, “Please? For me?”

She batted her eyes a few times for good measure.

Tobey stared at her for a long moment, looking torn and frustrated, until he finally swiveled his chair back toward his desk and reluctantly blustered, “ _Fine!_ ”

Becky gave a delighted little squeal and placed a hand approvingly on his shoulder as he tore through a drawer. He produced a pen and an unfortunate piece of paper, which he slapped down in front of him and glared at, as though it had done him some personal offense. Tobey yanked his goggles off his head and threw them unceremoniously over his shoulder. Then he took in a sharp breath, uncapped the pen and read aloud as he started writing.

“‘Dear Nitwit,’”

“No,” Becky ordered, her giddiness lost as quickly as it had come.

Tobey crossed out the line and started again on the next one down. “‘Dear Professor No-Regard,’”

 _“No_.”

“Professor Blowhard?”

“ _Nooooo_.”

“‘To whom it does not concern,’”

“Tobey…” Becky drawled, rolling her eyes and thinking to herself, _Lord, give me patience, and I need it now._

Maybe it was time for a different approach.

She removed her hand from his shoulder and understandingly said, “Okay, Tobey, I get it. The way Professor Beauregard acts is _really_ annoying. But you’d be surprised at how differently people can act when you respond to them with grace instead of anger—even if that anger is completely valid. I once tried it with this really frustrating villain who used to drive me absolutely _nuts_ , and now he’s one of my best friends.”

Tobey blinked and gave her a weak smile, then halfheartedly retorted, “I really am never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

Becky flashed a triumphant little smirk, then rolled right along without skipping a beat. “My point is, if you give him a chance, you might find that you have more in common with him than you think.”

Tobey sighed and looked up from his paper. “Well, what do you suggest, O Gracious One?”

“Try to write your letter like you’re trying to find common ground with him.” Becky optimistically suggested. “He likes big words, right? Maybe for an icebreaker you could tell a vocabulary joke. Becky brightened and clapped her hands together as she thought of something. “Like this one, for example. A woman is sitting at her husband’s funeral looking sad. A man sits down next to her and asks, ‘Do you mind if I say a word?’”

She’d deepened her voice for the character, and now she turned to her imaginary conversation partner and changed her voice to a high squeaky one for extra contrast. “‘No, go right ahead,’ the woman replies.” Becky turned and changed her voice again. “The man clears his throat and says ‘Plethora.’ Then the woman says, ‘Thanks, that means a lot.’”

Becky looked expectantly at Tobey. He raised one eyebrow, and a reserved little chuckle betrayed him.

“You _would_ figure out a way to define a word in a joke,” he said in a tone that could have been either a compliment or a playful insult. Becky chose to take it as a compliment.

“Thank you,” she said with a bow. “But you see what I mean, right? Try to think of a way to communicate with him on his level.”

Tobey wilted, then perked up once more. “On _his_ level, hm?”

“Yeah! Now you’re getting it!”

“Yes… I do believe I am.” Tobey murmured, staring off into space with that look in his eyes that meant his gears were turning. He cleared his throat and looked back at Becky with a winsome smile. “Thank you, My Sweet. You’ve been most helpful.”

“I’m happy to hear it!” Becky exclaimed. She patted him on the shoulder, then trotted off to leave him to his writing. It felt good knowing she had managed to inspire a little humility in her dear, headstrong Tobey.

« « « « « … » » » » »

Professor Blowhard dismissed the class, and Tobey felt a little prickle of apprehension mixed with excitement. He was a tad nervous about his mother and girlfriend’s inevitable reactions to the consequences of his malicious compliance, but mostly he just felt quite pleased with himself for his cleverness.

Anticipating what was on the horizon, he took his time packing up his books while the rest of the class trickled out of the room. No sense speeding toward a red light, after all.

Right on cue, the professor called out as soon as Tobey started to head for the door, “Mr. McCallister, may I have a word with you?”

“Certainly, Professor,” Tobey replied, smiling cheerfully despite his certainty that he was about to get the proverbial—or rather ‘verbal’—ruler to the backside.

As he approached the large desk, the man sitting behind it raised an eyebrow at him and picked up a stack of papers in front of him. Tobey immediately recognized the graph template of the sheets, and he couldn’t help cracking a satisfied smile.

“‘The following written correspondence’,” Beauregard read aloud, “is humbly addressed to the most distinguished Mr. Charles Humphrey Beauregard, Professor of English Linguistics Studies at Fair City University. It has come to the attention of a juvenile under your tutelage by the name of Theodore “Tobey” McCallister the Third that he has expressed opinions regarding your excellent sir’s chosen modes of communication which are unbecoming of his studential role in an institution of higher learning”—he paused to take a breath—“as well as undermining to the atmosphere of intellectual reverence and mutual respect that an accomplished language artist such as yourself has certainly taken great measures to cultivate in his hallowed classroom.’”

Professor Beauregard stopped reading there, took off his glasses, and turned his eyes up at Tobey with a look of passive disapproval.

Tobey, again, couldn’t help but smile. He at least managed to refrain from saying anything. The letter spoke _plenty_ for itself.

The professor looked back down at the pages with an exasperated sigh and began fingering through a few of them. Tobey had made sure there were at least ten.

“Your… ‘correspondence’… meanders on like that for almost two pages before it even begins to resemble something like an apology, and then digresses—ever so slowly—into what can only be described as a self-rebuking tangent of dubious sincerity, peppered with thinly-veiled opinions suspiciously similar to the ones for which the letter is supposedly apologizing.”

Tobey’s smile broadened, and he could no longer resist the urge to speak. “Why, Professor, I do say you could probably get an award somewhere for that beautifully-worded review! Pure poetry!”

“Mm,” Beauregard mumbled flatly, his stony gaze fixed on Tobey. He set the stack of gray papers back down on the desk and looked down at them as he conspicuously uncapped a red marker.

“I really should dock points for the obvious and supercilious sarcasm,” he said drolly as he marked something on top of the first page, “but in that event, I should also award points for a— _point—_ well-made.” He looked back up at Tobey, who was surprised to see his lips quirk into a partial smirk. “And, since the the grammar is flawless albeit intentionally and horrendously tedious, I suppose I have no legitimate grounds for grading your assignment any worse than this.”

He handed the letter to Tobey, who took it in hand and was perplexed at the bright red ‘99’ penned across the top.

Tobey looked up at his professor, mouth slightly ajar, and murmured in shock, “Professor Beauregard…”

“I indulged myself in subtracting one point for the superfluous amount of time it took for me to read it. I trust you don’t mind.”

Mind? Tobey had been expecting to fail the class for his petty revenge, not achieve an almost perfect grade. He felt relieved, grateful, and even a little bit… guilty.

“Well, run along now,” Professor Beauregard said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Tobey turned and started for the classroom exit, still dumbfounded in his surprise. Before he reached the door, however, he remembered something, and he turned back to face his teacher with a mild smile.

“Professor,” he said, turning around to face the man once more. “Would you like to hear a joke?”

Professor Beauregard said nothing, but his eyebrows raised with interest.

Tobey recounted, “A man is at a funeral, and he approaches the wife of the deceased and says, ‘I’m deeply sorry for your loss. May I say a word?’ She says ‘yes,’ and the man says, ‘plethora.’ Then the woman says, ‘Thank you, sir, that means a lot.’”

As Tobey finished, he noticed that he’d told the joke with far fewer words than Becky had, and he wondered if his verbose professor would have preferred Becky’s version.

Professor Beauregard was still and silent for a moment. Then a thin little grin curled his lips. Finally a small but clearly amused laugh cut through the silence of the nearly empty room—the first laugh Tobey had ever heard from the austere professor.

“Good one, McCallister,” he complimented, simply and succinctly, and it was Tobey’s turn to laugh.

“Why, Professor, are you quite all right?” he asked facetiously. “I do believe that sentence was only three words long!”

Professor Beauregard turned stern again and pointed a pencil at Tobey, who could swear he still detected a trace of mirth in the man’s voice as he reprimanded, “I would caution you not to test your good fortune, young man. And do not be surprised if the next time you arrive tardy to my class you find the door bolted and the classroom completely inaccessible.”

“Yes, sir!” Tobey said with a sharp nod, and he briskly trotted out of the classroom.

 _Huh,_ he thought to himself as he headed down the hall. _Becky was_ _ **right**_ _._

It was about time he stopped letting that surprise him.

« ... »

_Where there is strife, there is pride, but wisdom is found in those who take advice._

— _Proverbs 13:10_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**-** _**Professor Beauregard** _ **— I think I subconsciously drew some inspiration from my late grandmother when characterizing this guy. :} Not that she** _**talked** _ **like him, but she had that same stern, uninviting exterior with a fun-loving side hiding underneath, just waiting to be let out. She was even a college professor, now that I think of it. :P People like that make life interesting, don’t they? :) But boy, was he ever a workout for my thesaurus! *-***

 **-** _**‘Plethora’** _ **— Big shout-out to iapab97 for telling me this WordGirl-worthy joke. XP He was also the one who suggested the theme word of this oneshot, and these two contributions are just fragments from the plethora of hilarious jokes and obscure words he has shared with me. :} Thanks a lot, man! I always feel happy to see a new message from you in my inbox. :)**

 **-** _**Reddit Reference** _ **— My siblings got me watching Reddit videos recently, and so I couldn’t help referencing a couple of them here. The little stunt Tobey pulls with his letter is sort of a combination of the ‘malicious compliance’ and ‘petty revenge’ subreddits. I even managed to slip the names of those subreddits into the prose of Tobey’s internal monologue. Oh, clever is me! XP**

 **-** _**Call to Arms** _ **— To anyone who may still be reading, I invite you to suggest words for me. There are still quite a few letters of the alphabet for which I only have suggestions from one person, and it would be nice to have a bit more variety of choices. :)**


	8. Handsel

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episodes 'Tobey Goes Good' and 'Department Store Tobey.'** _

**Foreword:**

**Oy, sorry again, everyone. I was hoping I'd have this ready in 2 weeks, but I had to put pretty much everything on hold in order to finish a special birthday gift in time. X( BUT! I'm back now, and I've made a mid-year resolution to stick with this story until I finish it. And I want to start finishing the oneshots faster, too, 'cause I've got other stories in me and I don't want to be at this one until I'm in my 40's. *_***

**The theme of this oneshot was suggested by Lucinda Cottontale. The story takes place probably a couple of months after 'Grandiloquent.' Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Handsel [ **han** -s _uh_ l] – a gift given for good luck at the beginning of the year or to mark an acquisition or the start of an enterprise.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Okay, kids! Who wants sparklers?" Mr. Botsford asked, cheerfully waving a lit one in each hand.

Tobey wondered if there were any children present who were young enough to appreciate such things _and_ who had actually managed to stay up this late.

"Ooh! Ooh! Me! Me!" Scoops shouted, bouncing up and down and waving his hand like a… well, like a child. He dropped his camera and it flew behind him by its strap as he rushed toward Mr. Botsford.

Tobey was about to roll his eyes when Becky and Violet rushed after Scoops, equally enthused, and Tobey felt a tiny little prick of chagrin. He was getting used to those, but they still seized his attention, as all reminders should.

This one was a reminder that he shouldn't look down on things he considered 'childish' or 'silly.' Becky was a very clear example of how a perfectly intelligent person could like something he considered silly, and since things Becky liked were automatically exempt from his scorn, he couldn't really scorn other people for liking the same things. That meant Scoops and Violet were allowed to like sparklers, Tobey acknowledged with a sigh.

He still thought Becky maintained a much more dignified air than Scoops with her sparkler. She and Violet waved them like magic wands as they fluttered to and fro, ostensibly pretending to be fairies. Scoops, on the other hand, seemed to be following TJ and Johnson's lead—laughing and gadding about like toddlers, sometimes twirling their sparklers in wild circles and other times fighting with them like swords.

"Awww," Johnson moaned. "My sparkler went out!"

"That means I win!" TJ announced, thrusting his sparkler victoriously in the air.

Scoops jumped in front of Johnson and brandished his own sparkler at TJ, exuberantly shouting, "Worry not, good sir! I shall avenge you!"

"You shall _try_ ," TJ sneered, and he belted out a ridiculous-sounding evil laugh.

Both their sparklers simultaneously fizzled out. They looked at each other in dumbfounded silence for a moment, then all three boys bolted back to Mr. Botsford in unison.

In spite of himself, Tobey smiled. He even felt a small urge to follow them and join in.

"It was so nice of the Botsfords to organize this neighborhood New-Year's celebration, wasn't it?" said his mother, having an adult conversation with a group nearby.

"Oh, yes, indeed," a man replied. Tobey was pretty sure he was Mr. Ming, but tonight was his first time seeing him… or… his first time _noticing_ him, at least. He brightly added, "And this public park was the perfect place to set it up so that everyone who wanted to come could be welcome."

"Such a lovely night, too," said his wife beside him, staring up at the moonlit night sky full of sparkling stars.

"Hey! Leave the exposition to _me_ , if you please," an indignant voice grumbled out of the ethers. "It's the one thing I get to do around here."

"That's what you get for being late," Tobey said, unsympathetically folding his arms.

"Hmph," huffed the Narrator.

Despite his usual aversion to anything 'social,' Tobey had to admit this little New Year's get-together had turned out to be a refreshingly amusing little diversion. The food was good, the conversation was less smalltalk-ridden than he'd feared, and best of all, Becky was there. Plus, thanks to a some impatient people scattered throughout town, he hadn't even needed to wait until midnight to see a few fireworks.

Things were winding down now that it was so late. The tables were scattered with used dishes and Bob had started gathering them all up, shamelessly helping himself to any food that had been left.

"Attention, everyone!" Mrs. Botsford called loudly from nearby. Tobey turned to see her standing on one of the tables with her hands high over her head and a smile broad across her face. Tobey hoped she was paying attention to her footing. One misplaced step and her left foot would be wearing the leftover potato salad.

She pointed to her watch and loudly announced, "It's almost midnight! Ready for the countdown?"

Everyone smiled and dropped what they were doing—minus anything flammable, thankfully—and counted along with Mrs. Botsford from "60!"

Tobey had always thought the practice of counting down to the new year was a little silly, but this time, he joined in anyway. He felt caught up in the moment somehow… suddenly moved at the idea of being in a public park surrounded by acquaintances and strangers alike to share in an admittedly pointless experience—but one which had brought them all together.

"50!" everyone chanted.

Mr. Botsford set down his box of sparklers and joined his wife on the table.

"45!"

Johnson and TJ stepped forward, pumping their fists as they counted, still holding their sparklers in their free hands.

"40!"

Violet lightly grasped her mother's arm as they counted together.

"35!"

The Mings stood hand-in-hand while counting, and their son snapped pictures from every angle in a frenzy— _also_ while counting.

"30!"

Tobey's mother came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, startling him so that he stopped counting for a moment.

"25!"

Becky came up beside him and slipped her hand into his, and they gave each other a warm smile as they both continued counting.

The seconds seemed to go faster from that point. Tobey looked around at all the people who were here to usher in the new year together—probably most of the neighborhood—and instead of feeling grumpy and antisocial like he might have in the past, Tobey actually felt _glad_ to be here with them. Maybe Becky's 'people personality' was finally rubbing off on him a little.

Tobey gave Becky's hand a squeeze as they neared the end of the countdown, and he felt a rush of irrational anticipation as the final seconds ticked away.

"5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Tobey forgot you were supposed to say that at the end, but everyone else was so loud that he was pretty sure no one noticed his voice was missing. The following chorus of whooping and hollering was enough to make him feel a little jolt of his usual grumpy antisocial feelings.

Then the sky lit up with fireworks, and the myriad explosions of light and color fixed his mood in a half a tick. Tobey had always loved fireworks. They appealed to the part of him that liked to destroy things _and_ the part of him that liked to build things. The sheer idea of meticulously crafting something for the sole purpose of blowing it up in the most spectacular way possible… well, it was strangely appealing to him, to say the least. The sight of it now made him want to design his own fireworks machine. A firework-bot, perhaps? He'd need a better name for it, though…

The excitement over the crowd quickly settled into a happy murmur of handshakes, goodbyes, and well-wishes. It was obvious that most people didn't want to stay out any later than midnight. Within five minutes, most of the cleanup was finished (Bob had made short work of the leftovers), and the only people left in the park were the Botsfords, the Mings, and the McCallisters, of course.

While they were folding up the chairs and tables that they'd brought, Becky struck up a conversation.

"So, Violet, what's your new year's resolution?"

"You say that like you're sure she has one," Tobey chuckled.

He'd expected Becky to give a playful retort and start bantering with him. Instead, she said quite matter-of-factly, "I am. Violet has a new year's resolution _every_ year."

Violet nodded. It's kind of a tradition of mine. I want to be constantly bettering myself."

"Oh," Tobey muttered, not sure what else to say. Personally, he'd always thought the idea of new year's resolutions was kind of… well… _silly_. If there was something you needed to take care of, shouldn't you just take care of it right away rather than arbitrarily waiting for the new year? And if you were trying to 'constantly better yourself,' shouldn't that process be… well… _constant?_ Rather than _annual?_

He didn't say any of these thoughts, though. He knew how condescending they would sound. Besides, he'd grown to like Violet. Why say something that might hurt her feelings for no good reason?

Wow… Becky really _was_ rubbing off on him.

Violet closed her eyes and said in her dreamy, off-in-her-own-little-world voice,"This year, I'm going to paint the moon."

"Oh," Tobey muttered, not sure what else to say. His natural impulse was to comment that doing her 500th painting hardly sounded like a resolution, but somehow he doubted that would go over very well.

Becky giggled suspiciously, like she knew something Tobey didn't. That irked him a little.

Violet cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered, still loud enough for everyone present to hear, "It's symbolic. I learned that word the other day. It means something that represents something else."

Tobey wanted to say, 'Well, look who thinks she's WordGirl.' Instead he just said, "Oh."

Man, you couldn't say _anything_ fun when you were trying to be nice.

"What does painting the moon represent, Violet?" asked Scoops.

"I'll tell you when the time is right," Violet answered enigmatically.

 _When will that be? Next year?_ Tobey thought, and immediately bit his tongue.

Scoops looked insatiably curious, but he didn't argue. In spite of himself, Tobey even found _himself_ itching to pester her for an explanation. He had to give the girl one thing. She knew how to be mysterious.

"Do you have a new year's resolution, Scoops?" Violet asked.

"Me?" Scoops asked back, pointing at himself. "Oh, well… it's a little personal, but a good reporter is always forthcoming with the truth." He resolutely put up a finger and went on. "One of the critical aspects of investigative journalism is that you have to be hard and ruthless in pursuing the facts, and I've always been pretty good about that. _But_ , I realized recently that I might sometimes do my job too well and come across like I don't care, and I really don't want people to think I'm one of those cold, heartless reporters who will do anything for a story. So, I want to work on how I present myself. I'm going to try to be a little more sensitive to people's feelings so that they'll feel like they can trust me."

Tobey blinked. Did Scoops just say something intelligent and perceptive? He'd been trying for a while to cultivate respect for Scoops in spite of how dumb he tended to sound, but that little speech definitely made it easier. He never thought he'd see the day that he would actually _relate_ to something Scoops was dealing with.

"Wow, Scoops," Becky said, looking deeply impressed. "That's so admirable of you!"

Tobey scowled a little, wondering if it was too late to withdraw that newfound respect.

"Why, thank you," Scoops beamed, proudly grasping either side of the camera strap hanging around his neck.

Violet gave him an approving nod, and he blushed. Tobey got the sense this was something they'd talked about before—another reminder that Becky's friends had their own lives outside what he got to see.

Bob wandered over with a big bowl of miscellaneous leftovers in hand and happily chirped something before he started eating.

Becky chuckled and interpreted for him. "Bob says his resolution is to try as many new foods as possible."

"Ooh," Violet drawled in an intrigued voice. "Sounds exotic!"

"Hey!" Scoops laughed, pointing a friendly finger at Violet. " _I_ taught you that word!"

Violet gave him another affirming smile, then turned to Becky. "Do _you_ have one this year, Becky?"

Becky shook her head and put a thoughtful hand to her chin, wrinkling her forehead in contemplation. "Not yet. I can't decide on one."

"How about you, Tobey?" asked Scoops. "Got any new resolutions?"

Tobey didn't answer right away. He didn't have any _new_ resolutions, no, but all this talk of resolutions had reminded him of an old one. The reason he hadn't taken care of it right away as he was predisposed to doing was due to Becky's encouragement. She had wanted him to wait until the time was right and not to stress himself out with worry.

He wasn't worried, but maybe the right time was _now_. He had to start sometime, after all. Why _not_ at the start of the new year?

And just like that, his mind was made up.

"About that," he answered Scoops. "I'd like to have another creative meeting with you and Violet."

Scoops, Violet, and Becky all looked at him curiously. Even Bob stopped eating long enough to give him a thoughtful glance.

"What do you want to meet about?" asked Violet.

Tobey gave his best enigmatic mysterious smile and tapped his fingers together as he said, "I'll tell you when the time is right."

They all blinked at him, and Scoops muttered, "So… Saturday, then?"

Tobey pouted and grumbled in resignation, "Yes, Saturday will do."

« « « « « … » » » » »

Scoops and Violet both looked stunned as they stared dumbfounded at Tobey. Scoops was the first who managed to get some words out of his gaping mouth.

"You plan on paying back _ten_ _billion_ dollars?!"

"Yes," Tobey said simply with a nod.

"Ten… _billion?!_ " Scoops repeated. "As in, ten zeroes _after_ the one?"

"Yes, I suppose that would be the layman's definition of ten billion," Tobey replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Is that even _possible_?" Scoops exclaimed, grabbing his head as though it hurt his brain to even contemplate such a large number.

Tobey sighed and allowed himself one _subtle_ roll of his eyes. "Of course it's possible. There are _dozens_ of people who are worth _far_ more than ten billion dollars." Tobey sat up straighter and confidently folded his arms as he nonchalantly stated, "I simply have to figure out how to become one of them."

Scoops blinked at him. "'Simply?'"

Tobey's 'creative meeting' consisted of the same group that had put their heads together a year ago to figure out how he and Becky could date without arousing suspicion about her being WordGirl—Becky, Bob, Violet, Scoops, and Tobey himself of course. This time, however, they were meeting in Tobey's room rather than Becky's.

"I have to say, Tobey," Violet spoke up, "I think it's a noble thing you want to do, but it doesn't seem like it'll be simple."

Tobey was about to argue that he was a genius and wouldn't have to cope with the same challenges that a normal person would, but Becky put up a hand to stop him and inserted much more diplomatically, "Right, Violet. Which is why we want help coming up with ideas."

'We,' she'd said. She was actually starting to think of them as a team. Tobey couldn't help inwardly swooning a little at the thought.

A tinny-sounding 'arf!' sounded, and a little robotic puppy rolled over in Becky's lap. It warmed Tobey's heart that Becky had brought Cuddlepie with her. The little robotic dog was a gift he'd given her a long time ago, and she still loved it to pieces… literally. She had once come to him in tears because a piece of Cuddlepie had popped off while she was playing with him. It was the only time in Tobey's life when seeing her cry had been amusing rather than heartbreaking.

Becky smiled and patted the puppy's exposed belly. He gave a happy growl and thumped his foot in the air.

"Well," Scoops muttered, calling Tobey's attention back to himself, "it can't hurt to give it a go."

He flipped open his notepad and pulled a pen loose from the spiral binding, clicking it open.

Bob chirped what sounded like an agreement and clapped. He then pulled out a pen of his own and a large pad of graph paper, licking his finger and flipping over the first few pages. He looked as much like a professional business consultant as a chimpanzee wearing a diaper possibly could.

"So," Tobey said with a smile, touching his fingers together at the tips. "Basically what I need is a business idea that I can pursue with the resources currently available to me that will allow me to start earning money—preferably a significant enough amount that it can springboard me into bigger avenues in a relatively short time."

"Ah, I see," Scoops said with a nod. "So you're trying to become an entrepreneur."

Tobey blinked, mildly surprised that Scoops knew that word.

Becky abandoned rubbing Cuddlepie to raise a finger in the air and proactively offer, "An entrepreneur is a person who organizes and operates a business, often the one who starts the business and usually at greater risk to themselves than someone just working for the business."

Tobey nodded, hoping that _Violet_ was the one Becky assumed _didn't_ know the word.

"Indeed," he said. "But I don't want it to be just another faceless corporate venture that's all about numbers and profit and is ultimately no real benefit to anyone. I want to do something _groundbreaking_. Something that will change the world!"

He pumped his arms excitedly. Violet gave a calm nod while Scoops took notes. "Did you have anything in mind?" she asked.

Tobey deflated a little. "I'm… fuzzy on the details just yet, but I'm sure it should be easy to think of something…" He perked up and exclaimed, "Like, I could build a robot that can control the weather! Or a Dyson sphere to harness perpetual energy directly from the sun!"

"Not that those don't sound really cool," Scoops muttered, sounding annoyingly unimpressed, "but I thought you wanted something you could start up right now that you already had the resources for."

Tobey blinked. He had a point.

Violet nodded. "Those sound to me like something you should keep in mind and work your way up to. There are probably lots of legal things you'd have to figure out besides just having the machine that can do the job."

Bob nodded in agreement, penciling something onto his paper. Tobey blinked again. He still hadn't gotten used to those out-of-nowhere moments when spacey, flighty Violet said or did something that proved she was _much_ smarter than she seemed on the surface.

"Those are good points," Becky said, putting a hand to her chin while Cuddlepie nibbled at her elbow. "Maybe you're thinking too big for just starting out."

Tobey couldn't help scoffing. "Well, do you expect me to try and think _small?_ "

"Not _small_ ," Becky clarified, "just more… you know… _manageable_."

"Like what?"

Just then the door flew open with an impolite slam and two preteens noisily clomped in. Cuddlepie jolted at the noise and ran over to the intruders, barking and running circles around them.

"Becky," TJ whined loudly, "I'm bo-ored."

"Yeah, me too, I'm bo-ored," Johnson parroted behind him.

Tobey had completely forgotten that Becky and Violet brought their little brothers today. He wanted to get huffy with them for interrupting such an important meeting with their petty juvenile concerns, but he was curious how _Becky_ would respond, and so he held his tongue and looked to her.

Becky blinked at them and simply muttered, "Okay, well… so what about that?"

Tobey smiled. Maybe _he_ was rubbing off on _her_ a little also.

Cuddlepie lost interest in the boys and instead turned his attention to Tobey for some reason, jumping into his lap and shoving his snout up in Tobey's face, trying to lick him. Tobey pushed him away and he ran back to Becky.

"Hey, we didn't ask to come to your dumb meeting," TJ grumbled.

He crossed his arms and Johnson imitated him, saying, "Yeah, we didn't ask to come to your dumb meeting!"

TJ added, "It's not _our_ fault all our parents happened to be busy at the same time on the same day."

"Yeah! W-What _he_ said," Johnson stuttered.

"Our parents are all helping Mrs. Botsford with her reelection campaign," Scoops pointed out.

"Again, _not_ our fault," TJ insisted with a dismissive gesture. "If you're gonna drag us to your weird teenage business conference, you should at least make sure we're not dying of boredom in the meantime."

"Yeah!" said Johnson, mirroring TJ's hands-on-hips stance.

Tobey felt a little annoyed, but he couldn't help sympathizing at least a _little_. He knew what it was like to be stuck somewhere you didn't want to be while the person you were stuck with took their sweet time doing something that had nothing to do with you. How many times had his mother abducted him for a seemingly endless trip to the store as she tried on enough merchandise to clothe a small army? He shuddered inwardly at the thought and decided to take pity on the boys.

"Very well," Tobey sighed, making a waving motion toward the corner of the room. "You two can play with my game station."

"Whoa, you have a _game station?_ " TJ asked, sounding incredulous. "I thought you were a stuffy intellectual who thought anything fun was a waste of time."

Tobey frowned, wondering if it was too late to withdraw his sympathy. "Going once…"

"I call first controller," TJ announced, dashing over to the corner where the TV was set up.

"I call… _second_ controller," Johnson fumbled, and he followed TJ.

"When did you get a game station, Tobey?" asked Violet.

"Yeah," inserted Scoops. "I _do_ seem to recall you saying they were a big waste of time.

Tobey hesitated a moment, hoping he wasn't blushing. "I— _used_ to think that," he admitted. "But Becky opened my eyes to how enjoyable they can be, and… now I enjoy them. Occasionally."

"To answer your question, Violet," Becky offered with a giggle, "he _built_ it."

Tobey leaped at the shift in the discussion and said with a proud smile. "It was a challenge from Becky. Which, obviously, I _won_."

Becky smiled with a playful roll of her eyes. "Let's stay on topic, shall we? Since you want to start something up soon, I think we should evaluate the things you've _already_ invented and see if there's something marketable—"

"Hey, how do you put games in this thing?" TJ interrupted, voice raised.

Tobey rolled his eyes and said, "Just open the front panel and set the game on the tray."

"Just set it on the tray?" TJ repeated, sounding incredulous. "You don't have to plug a cartridge into a slot or snap a disc into a… spinny thing?"

"It has advanced no-contact X-ray scanning technology," Tobey explained, "It reads the information coded into the game by scanning the game medium, so it's universally compatible."

"No way," TJ marveled. "That is _so cool!_ "

After that, TJ was happy, and Tobey trusted that would be the last of the interruptions.

"Now then," he muttered, turning his attention back to Becky, "What were you saying, Dearest?"

Becky smiled and offered, "I was saying maybe you should think about commercializing something you've already made. Like maybe… Um…"

Becky rubbed Cuddlepie's head as she considered, causing his mechanical ears to flop back and forth. He made a satisfied little gurgling noise as she did so. Scoops eyed him for a moment, then pointed the clicking-end of his pen at him and said, "What about the robo-pup?"

Becky looked down at her pet and said with some surprise, "Cuddlepie?"

"Yeah, he's amazing," Scoops offered, though he didn't sound all that amazed. "I mean, sure, you can get a toy dog at the store that'll bark and walk around and stuff, but Cuddlepie acts like an _actual_ puppy. That's pretty groundbreaking if you ask me."

"Oh," Becky said, sounding a little torn herself. She stroked Cuddlepie's back and her smile looked a little wistful as she said, "Yeah, that's… that's a good point."

"Absolutely not!" Tobey insisted. "Cuddlepie was a gift. He's a special, unique robot between Becky and I who means a great deal to both of us and I intend to keep him that way! I won't stand to see him being mass-produced on some assembly line in a factory somewhere so that there can be thousands of him running around all over the place."

He folded his arms indignantly and looked once more to Becky, seeking approval of his stance. She looked a little surprised for a beat, but then smiled softly and hugged Cuddlepie to her chest. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. It was one of those rare moments when her actions spoke louder than her words.

"Okay, it was just a suggestion," Scoops said with an exasperated sigh. "No need to get all—"

"Whoa!" interrupted TJ's voice. "This game station really _can_ play anything!"

So much for no more interruptions.

"Indeed," Tobey drawled. "So kindly _pick_ something and get immersed in it so that we can finish our business undeterred."

"I wonder if it could play Super-Duper Bash Siblings? I've missed that game _sooooo_ much!"

Tobey grumbled unintelligibly and put a hand over his face.

Bob piped up suddenly, clapping his hands and looking excited.

Becky translated, "Bob suggests the cleaning robot you made back when you were a villain."

Tobey cocked his head to one side. "You mean the Shipeshape-a-tron?"

Bob nodded, then held up his graph pad for everyone to see. He chirped and squeaked unintelligibly as he pointed at different parts of a quite impressive chart. When he stopped 'talking,' he turned expectantly to Becky, who looked a little overwhelmed as she began to translate.

"Uh… I don't think I can quite communicate everything Bob just said, but he was explaining that the industry for cleaning products is really huge and the market is always ready for a new gadget that saves time."

Tobey _almost_ let his mouth drop open.

"Wow, Bob," Scoops complimented. "I had no idea you had such a good head for economics."

 _No joke,_ Tobey internally agreed. And to think the only reason he'd invited Bob to this meeting was because he didn't want him to feel left out.

Before Tobey could revel in the merit of Bob's suggestion, though, he remembered something that put a downer on the whole prospect.

"Um… one problem, though," he said. "The Shipeshape-a-tron isn't exactly… safe… just yet."

"What's unsafe about it?" Violet asked.

Becky smiled and knowingly said, "Still better at _making_ messes than cleaning them, huh?"

"Um, not exactly," Tobey explained, scratching the side of his face. "I did do _some_ work on it, but… well… let's just say the last time I powered it on to troubleshoot the bugs, it tried to wash my mother."

Everyone stared at him in silence.

"I… think it mistook her for a car," Tobey added.

More silence.

Finally Violet asked, "Was she… mad?"

Tobey shuddered. "I wasn't allowed to do any robotics work in the house for a _month_."

"O-kay," Scoops said, scritching something on his notepad, "I guess that's another idea for the 'later' pile."

Bob wilted with a sigh and flipped over the page on _his_ pad.

"Oh, wow, this controller is the _bomb!_ " TJ exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Johnson agreed. "I always thought this game was super-hard."

"Me too! I guess the buttons were just stupid."

Tobey frowned in their direction and patronizingly muttered, "Um, excuse me, children, but the grown-ups are trying to have an important conversation over here."

"Seriously! How are the controls so smooth?" TJ added, ignoring Tobey completely.

Tobey blasted, "The buttons are made of a superconductive alloy that makes them highly touch-sensitive, now pipe down!"

He sighed with a pointed roll of his eyes and pulled his miniature supercomputer out of his pocket.

"Whatcha doin'?" Scoops asked.

Tobey explained as he worked, "I'm setting up a reminder for myself to program remote access to the game station from my computer." He held the device up for Scoops to see. "I want to create a profile that periodically interrupts the game with an on-screen reminder to _be quiet_."

He glared pointedly over at the boys, but they were both completely absorbed in their game and paid him no mind.

Scoops suddenly grinned excitedly and said, "I've got it! Your computer!"

"What about my computer?" Tobey asked.

"Well, it's a _computer!_ " Scoops unhelpfully clarified. "A computer that you can fit in your _pocket,_ " he added, even _more_ unhelpfully. "Can you _imagine_ what the market would be like for a gadget like that?" And, the third time was the charm.

"Huh," Tobey muttered, touching his chin and staring down at the little tool in his hand, considering the prospect.

"Hey, _yeah!_ " Becky heartily agreed. "I bet _lots_ of people would _love_ to have a computer they could carry around with them everywhere!"

Violet reached over and lightly touched the side of Tobey's computer without trying to take it from him.

"This is a computer?" she asked. "I always thought it was an oddly-shaped cellular phone."

Tobey refrained from sighing. Violet was still Violet, after all. However much secret wisdom she harbored beneath her absent-minded exterior, she remained an airhead.

"Ooh! That gives me another idea!" Scoops exclaimed, bobbing up and down. "Could you program it with the ability to make phone calls?"

"Tobey smiled and shrugged. "Easily."

Scoops grinned once more. "You could do that and then market it as a phone!"

Tobey blinked and frowned. "Why would you do _that?_ "

"Well, because some people are intimidated by computers, but everyone is familiar with phones. It would make it more palatable to the masses if they thought of it as a phone."

Bob nodded agreement, drawing up a new chart as they spoke.

Tobey held up his computer. "But… it's _not_ a phone. It's a computer."

"Well, if it has the ability to make calls, then _technically_ it could count as a phone. It would just be a phone that can do lots of other cool stuff, too! You could call it a 'superphone' or—something like that."

Tobey grimaced, making a conscious effort to look and sound as offended as possible. "Why would you make a device that is primarily a pocket-sized computer and call it a phone? That would be like making a time machine that you can strap to your wrist and calling it a watch."

"Okay, fine, forget the phone idea," Scoops said, waving off his own idea. "But I still think this thing has the potential to be a total goldmine. Just _think_ about it!"

Tobey _did_ think about it. For a moment. Then he sighed and said, "I don't disagree. I wouldn't have made it if I didn't think it would make my life easier—which it _has_ —and I have no doubt it would be so for a great many intelligent people… Alas, most people are not very intelligent. I fear the world isn't ready for _everyone_ to have a computer they can carry around in their pockets. It would create a toxic society of overly-dependent human drones perpetually glued to their computer screens."

Everyone looked at Tobey with mostly blank expressions, giving him the impression they didn't entirely agree, but they didn't argue, and Scoops once more graciously shrugged off his own idea.

"All right, Tobey. Do _you_ have any ideas?"

Tobey opened his mouth, but once again, it was TJ's voice that filled the room.

"Omigosh, there's a dedicated cheat code engine!"

"Dedicated cheat code engine!" Johnson whooped.

"Do you two MIND?!" Tobey shouted indignantly over his shoulder at the little brothers. He was _this_ close to confiscating his game station and leaving them to their boredom.

"What if you tried just selling your normal robots?" Violet suggested.

Tobey whipped his head around to face her, still wearing the angry face he'd turned on TJ and Johnson. She flinched a little, but made a valiant effort to explain. "B-Back when you entered one in that inventor's contest, you had a whole list of useful things they could do."

By this point Becky was shaking her head and making 'X' gestures, trying to silently signal Violet to stop, but it was too late. Tobey bit his lip as an even deeper affront soured his mood. He pointedly retained the scowl on his face, and paused a suspenseful moment before he responded.

"If you recall, Violet," he said through gritted teeth, "that particular invention failed to win said contest, and I highly doubt a machine that couldn't even beat an _egg slicer_ would have any market potential whatsoever."

And with that, he folded his arms and glared sullenly at the floor.

If he was honest with himself—a quality he'd been trying to cultivate for a while—Tobey had to admit that he didn't seriously believe what he'd just said. He was just sulking. He didn't care how irrational it might seem to anyone else. That talent show was one of the worst humiliations of his young life, and he was loath to be reminded of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Becky signaling Violet to drop it, and he inwardly thanked her for it. He didn't like the idea of selling the designs for his standard-issue robots, anyway. Surely no one else but him could truly appreciate them. The 'contest which must not be spoken of' had made _that_ quite clear.

He felt a smallish hand pat him roughly on the shoulder, and he suddenly heard the one voice that could have rattled his mood even _more_.

"Hey, Tobey," pestered TJ, "Where did you _get_ that awesome game station? It might be the coolest thing I've ever touched!"

The compliment at least was a pleasant surprise, and it disarmed Tobey enough to earn TJ a civil response.

"I didn't 'get' it. I _made_ it."

Well… _mostly_ civil.

TJ's mouth fell open. "No way… _You_ made it?"

"Indeed." Tobey couldn't resist adding, "If you'd been paying attention to what we've been saying rather than taking every opportunity to interrupt, you'd already know that."

TJ slumped, looking disappointed. "Aw _man_ … You can't buy them? I woulda paid a year of allowance for one of those things."

With that, TJ morosely wandered back to the corner where Johnson was waiting for him. He affectionately stroked the game station and dramatically murmured, "Goodbye, sweet, sweet game station. Our time together was short, but I will never forget you."

Tobey watched them for a moment, thinking about TJ's words. How did the old saying go? 'Sometimes the hardest things to find are right under your nose?'

"Tobey?" Becky asked. "What's up?"

He didn't answer her at first. By the time Scoops and Violet asked him what was wrong, a light bulb had turned on in his head. He turned to his brainstorming team with a gleam in his eye and a grin on his face.

« « « « « ... » » » » »

There was a knock at the door, and TJ automatically called out, "Come in," without looking up from his homework. The door opened, and he waited to hear who would speak up. He expected it to be Mom wanting his opinion on a campaign poster or Becky wanting to complain about the soda stain on the cover of one of her books (he'd been hoping she wouldn't notice).

To TJ's surprise, the voice that spoke up was a guy's, and it definitely wasn't Dad's. "Salutations, TJ."

TJ spun in his chair, then gave Tobey the obligatory flat stare due to his 'sister's boyfriend' status and dryly muttered, "Oh… hey."

To his own surprise, TJ actually hadn't recognized Tobey's voice right away. A while back, for reasons TJ couldn't even guess at, Tobey had decided to start speaking without his fake accent around TJ— _some_ of the time. He still used it a _lot_ of the time, so TJ still wasn't quite used to how he sounded without it.

Tobey flashed a self-satisfied smile and hefted a large cardboard box in his arms. "I'm here to drop off an early birthday present."

TJ felt a little jolt of interest, but kept his tone neutral as he pointed out, "My birthday was like a _month_ ago."

"Well!" Tobey laughed. "A _very_ early birthday present!" He sighed and stared off into space as he mused, "Honestly, I don't know how I manage being so punctual all the time."

He shot TJ a victorious grin, and TJ smirked and gave his head a playful shake. He'd let Tobey have this one—so long as the gift was decent. He didn't have much hope of _that_ , but… it _was_ a pretty big box.

Tobey approached TJ and set the package on the bed beside him. TJ looked it over, trying to hide the burning curiosity he felt. With a sigh, he grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and started cutting away at the layers upon layers of packing tape sealing the brown box. As he struggled with a stubborn snarl of tape in one corner he pointedly grumbled, "What a lovely wrapping job you did."

"Why, thank you," Tobey replied.

TJ rolled his eyes, pulling open the cardboard flaps of the box as they _finally_ came free. _This had better be one good—_

He froze. _No way…_

"No way!" he exclaimed. "Your game station?!"

" _Your_ game station," Tobey corrected.

TJ looked at Tobey like he was Santa Claus. Amazed, he couldn't help murmuring, "So… You're really giving me your one-of-a-kind universal game station?"

Tobey grinned, looking proud of himself as he explained, "Well, it's not technically one-of-a-kind anymore. _This_ , my dear boy, is a prototype."

He closed his eyes and pinched the sides of his collar. TJ had no idea why he sometimes did that, but at this moment, he could not possibly care less.

"What do you mean it's a prototype?"

Tobey smiled and said with his finger in the air, "A prototype is a preliminary model of an invention from which other forms are to be developed or copied."

TJ's eyes went wide. "So you're saying you're going to make more of these?!"

"That's the plan," Tobey made a slight bow and said with formal, almost royal flair, "And if you're willing, I hope you'll do me the honor of being one of my beta testers."

TJ blinked, and his lips slowly stretched into a smile so wide it almost hurt. He got to be a beta tester for a the coolest new game system he'd ever seen?! Tobey had just instantly jumped up at least ten spaces on his list of favorite people.

"You mean it?" he exclaimed, holding up his fists by his chin like a giddy little girl.

"That's a yes, then?" Tobey said.

"YES!" TJ practically shouted. He grabbed Tobey's hand and shook it vigorously for a few seconds as he excitedly babbled, "Omigosh! Thank you so much! I'm so happy right now, you have no idea! Ican'twaittoplayandI'mgonnagodothatrightnow,bye!"

"Hold on!" Tobey called after TJ as he grabbed the box and bolted for the door. "There's a letter—"

"I'll read it later, thanks, see ya!" TJ called over his shoulder without stopping.

TJ dashed downstairs to the TV and had it all hooked up within minutes. He eagerly opened it up to put in the disc of his favorite game from when he was little. He hadn't been able to play Super-Duper Bash Siblings since their old system broke six years ago. His six-year-old self had been devastated to learn that the systems were no longer made.

In the back of his mind TJ was aware of steps on the stairs, and he heard Tobey's voice moving through the living room behind him.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then," he said. "Carry on, have fun, leave me a nice review and all that. Toodle-oo!"

"See ya," TJ replied automatically.

He heard the door shut, but only barely registered that Tobey had left. He was _way_ too excited as he gaped at the startup screen with a controller tightly gripped in his hands and a wide smile plastered across his face. He felt so happy. So grateful! He could _hug_ Tobey. He couldn't wait to—

The system beeped, and a message came up on the screen.

_To proceed, please acknowledge that you have read the letter accompanying your new game station and have agreed to all the terms and conditions stated therein._

TJ blinked, dumbstruck. At the bottom of the screen was a button with the text, 'I have read the letter, and I agree to all conditions.' There didn't appear to be anything else he could do until he selected that button.

TJ's smile flatlined. Suddenly he felt a little less grateful than he had two minutes ago.

Technically there was nothing stopping him from just pushing the button without reading the letter. That was what he did with every other terms and conditions agreement that had been shoved in his face. But… this was Tobey. Did he really want to sign a contract to _Tobey_ that he hadn't read yet?

No. He most certainly did not.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, TJ put down his controller and dug around inside the box until he found a small envelope mixed up with all the packing peanuts. He opened it up, and he was immediately surprised at how short it was. He'd half expected pages and pages of rules that would make him second guess whether the game station was worth the commitment.

_Dear TJ,_

_We've had our ups and downs, haven't we? It's hard for me to tell sometimes what you think of me, but I want you to know that I do value your good opinion and I do, for the most part, think quite well of you. You've shown yourself to be an intelligent boy who cares for his family and isn't afraid to stand up for himself. Those are traits I admire, even if I complain most of the times you show them._

_But enough with the sappy stuff. It's because I think you intelligent and value your opinion that I would like your input as I develop this game system for a commercial release. I'm not ashamed to admit that you're far more familiar with video games than I am and thus I believe you will have invaluable insight into aspects of the gaming experience that go beyond the technical capabilities of the console. You certainly made some perceptive observations when you were playing in my room the other day, though I sadly didn't appreciate them in the moment._

_Know that the prototype is a true gift and you are free to keep it even if you don't agree to work with me. If you do agree, give me a call when you've gotten settled in with your system and we can start talking about the logistics of the testing process. I never thought I would say this, but I look forward to working with you in the future._

_Sincerely, TTM_

TJ smiled. There hadn't even been any conditions. With an exasperated chuckle, he returned to the television and selected the 'I have read the letter' button. Super-Duper Bash Siblings loaded up without a hitch, and he felt a spark of nostalgic joy that he hadn't felt in years.

He never thought _he'd_ say it, either, but in spite of all expectation… he was also looking forward to working with Tobey.

« ... »

_In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps._

— _Prov 16:9_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**And boy, are there a lot of 'em this time. *_***

**-** _**Paint the Moon** _ **— This is a reference to a true story from a book I read recently called** _**Real Artists Don't Starve** _ **. It said that one of the astronauts from the space program who actually walked on the moon decided to quit NASA and become a painter. He then became the only person ever to paint the the moon after having actually been there. I'm not sure what Violet means by this reference, but I thought it would be cool if she got inspired by that astronaut story and then used 'painting the moon' as a metaphor for something new she wants to try in her life. I hope I'll have the chance to explore that in a future oneshot. :)**

 **-** _**Cuddlepie** _ **— For those who haven't read my chapterfic** _**Time to Go Home** _ **, Cuddlepie is a robot dog that Tobey built and later gave to Becky as a goodbye present. She affectionately named it 'Cuddlepie.' :3**

 **-** _**Johnson is Violet's Brother?!** _ **— Okay, so this isn't exactly canon, but it's a theory I read on Johnson's page of the WordGirl wiki, and I thought the evidence for it was strong enough that I decided to accept it as headcanon. :) Also, I just want to say how happy I am that Johnson was finally able to make an appearance in one of my fanfics. XD He's such an adorable little guy and yet he almost never seems to show up in fanfiction for some reason. :S**

 **-** _**Shopping Flashbacks** _ **— The mention of Tobey remembering trips to the store with his mother is based on the episode** _**Department Store Tobey** _ **in which he is stuck on one such trip with his mom. He expresses great frustration at how long she's taking, saying he thinks she's trying on the whole store. :P**

 **-** _**"A Challenge From Becky"** _ **— If anyone doesn't remember what Tobey is talking about with Becky challenging him to build a game station, I invite you to re-read the beginning of the oneshot for 'B.' :)**

 **-** _**"another faceless corporate venture"** _ **— I guess I should just admit that I ripped this clever string of words from an episode of Invader Zim called** _**Tak: The Hideous New Girl** _ **. The original line was, "All they see is another faceless corporate venture. Not a plan for world conquest," and the following response was, "Wait. Is there really a difference?" XP**

 **-** _**Bob's Economic Prowess** _ **— There's an episode of the show that establishes this, though for the life of me I can't remember which one… :{ Perchance does anyone remember? There was a running joke where he would pull out a bunch of super-detailed charts and go off on some complicated explanation that you couldn't understand because he was speaking space-monkey. :}**

 **-** _**Set in the 90's** _ **— For anyone who doesn't know or remember, my headcanon is that WordGirl is set in the 90's, hence smartphones not really being a thing yet. The fourth-wall-breaky reference to smartphones was kind of in honor of my little brother, who has always thought it's dumb that smartphones are called 'smartphones' when they're** _**clearly** _ **pocket-sized computers. It was fun and fortuitously in character to project him on Tobey with respect to that pet peeve. :P**

 **-** _**Lost to an Egg Slicer** _ **— Tobey's sulking about this is a reference to the episode** _**Tobey Goes Good** _ **, in which Tobey's robot lost to an 'invention' Becky and Violet made which was basically a glorified egg slicer. Needless to say, he was very upset about it.**

 **-** _**Talking to TJ Without an Accent** _ **— In my little headcanon universe I've been building since** _**Saving Tobey,** _ **Tobey has been gradually becoming more comfortable with his normal voice and letting more people into his inner circle of people who he'll talk to without his fake British accent—a circle which, in the show, only included his mom. It started with Becky requesting he use his normal voice in my oneshot** _**The Real McCallister.** _ **Then about a year later in** _**Badinage** _ **(earlier in** _**this** _ **fic), Becky's dad requested his genuine voice as well, and Tobey proactively extended that to Becky's whole family in an effort to build trust with them.**

 **-** _**Dyson Sphere** _ **— If you're curious about this, I recommend checking out the awesome Kurzgesagt video on Youtube entitled, "How to Build a Dyson Sphere."**


	9. Imperious

_**Hey, readers! This oneshot references the episodes 'Shrinkin** _ _**' in the Ray,' 'Meat with a Side of Cute,' and 'Dinner or Consequences.'** _

**Foreword:**

**Well, this oneshot took WAY too long to finish again. :( All the same, I hope you guys enjoy it. Before we get going, I thought I should let you guys know that I** **'m going to put 26 Letters on a hopefully brief hiatus while I finish a oneshot I owe Griselda Banks for winning 'By Jove, You've Rocked My Review' back in January of 2018. It's over 2 years late, which is completely unacceptable already. I feel it would be just plain wrong for me to neglect it any longer. On the bright side, though, I'm sure it's something you guys will enjoy, so I hope you can look forward to that while work on 26 Letters is paused. ;) I don't have a title for it yet, but it's going to tell the story of Becky and Bob crashing on Earth and making a home for themselves.**

 **The theme of this oneshot was suggested by RavenishDove. The story takes place maybe a week or so after** **'Handsel.' Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Imperious [im- **peer** -ee- _uh_ s] – domineering in a haughty manner; dictatorial; overbearing.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Boy, things are getting frustrating here at the Botsford house," Becky commented with a sigh. She glanced across the living room at her brother and boyfriend as they chattered self-importantly in front of the TV. "Tobey and TJ are really counting their chickens with this game console venture, and the premonitions of grandeur are starting to go to their heads."

"A- _HEM_ ," grumbled a voice that sounded even more cranky than hers. "Not to sound like a broken record, but how many times do I need to remind you people not to do my job? _I_ _'m_ the Narrator! Obligatory exposition at the beginning of chapters is _my_ department."

"I was just thinking out loud," Becky defended.

"Well, your thinking out loud sounds awful narrate-y," the Narrator grumbled suspiciously.

"'Narrat-y' isn't a word," Becky retorted, "and I'm not doing it on purpose. I just need an outlet for my annoyance or I'll start to—"

"Hey, Becky! I need a refill," interrupted TJ. He held up an empty glass and rattled the ice inside it.

Becky balled her fists and loudly groaned, "TJ, I've refilled your lemonade five times already! Haven't you had enough?"

TJ scoffed and patronizingly explained, "Becky, we're doing intense brain work here! I need lots of sugar to keep my neurons firing at top efficiency."

"Well, get it yourself, then," Becky said. She went limp and let herself slip partway off the couch.

"And break my concentration?" TJ replied in a scandalized tone. "This is serious business, Becky!"

"Quite right," Tobey agreed, using his most haughty British accent even though only the three of them were present. "I'm working out the bugs in a revolutionary new invention that'll be worth millions!"

"And _I_ _'m_ his right-hand beta tester," TJ announced. "Are _you_ a beta tester, Becky?"

Becky heaved a deep sigh and let herself slip the rest of the way off the couch.

"They're both acting so imperious," she muttered under her breath. "I don't know how much more of this nonsense I can take before—"

"Oh, Becky, dear," Tobey called. "While you're up, would you mind moving the couch over here? I could really use some back support."

"Ooh, now that you mention it," TJ added, "I could really use a shoulder massage after you get that lemonade refill."

"Oh my, what's that I hear?" Becky exclaimed, cupping a hand to her ear. "Trouble in town? Calls for WordGirl? I'm on my way! Word up!"

She changed into her superhero costume and flew the coop. A few minutes later, she was in her secret spaceship hideout, sprawled out on the bed in her colorfully decorated pony room and heaving a long, annoyed sigh.

"You realize you're gonna have to actually confront the issue at some point, right?" the Narrator pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," WordGirl conceded. She smiled and folded her arms as she added, "For now, though, I'm just going to ignore the issue and pretend it doesn't exist."

"Way to take the bull by the horns," quipped the Narrator.

"Don't judge me. I've had a long day. I don't have any energy to spare for confronting any more—"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeelp!" screamed a terrified voice.

WordGirl groaned, expecting to see that weird guy with the ponytail whose name she'd never managed to get, and sat up as she automatically started babbling, "The police station is on Main Street by the—"

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw who _actually_ barreled into the room like he was running for his life.

"Dr. Two-Brains?" she asked, zapping over to him. "What is it? What's the matter?"

His eyes were twice as big and bloodshot as usual and he twitched uncontrollably, glancing this way and that as he incoherently babbled what WordGirl could only guess was meant to be an explanation.

"Gl—Gl—Four—BLAM! He was—! It was—! And the ray and the brains and then the c-c-c-c- OH! It's horrible! You've gotta help me, WordGirl! PLEAAAAAAAASE!"

He started sobbing and hugged her feet, then fell to the floor in a fetal position, dragging her down with him.

"Whoa, Doc, calm down! It's okay," she said, reaching down to pat him on the head as he squeezed her feet to his chest.

She tried to gently prod him for information, but it was no use. He just lay there trembling on the floor in shock, babbling incoherently.

"Wow, I've never seen Doctor Two-Brains this upset before," WordGirl marveled. "I wonder what spooked him?"

"Guess you'll just have to go check it out," commented the Narrator in a knowing voice.

"Hold on a second… You already know what's going on, don't you?" WordGirl accused, pointing at the ceiling.

"Maybe," teased the Narrator.

"Well, can't you just tell me? You know, serve up some of that obligatory exposition you're so proud of?"

"Oh, _now_ you want my exposition," the Narrator whined. "Well, too bad. I'm kind of tired of being taken for granted all the time, so you're just gonna have to head into town and see what's going on for yourself."

The ground shook, and the Narrator softly added, "Don't sweat it, though, it'll be really obvious."

WordGirl zipped off into town, and her jaw dropped open at the sight that greeted her.

Lil' Mittens, the adorable kitten who the Butcher had adopted a few years ago, was pawing around in front of the department store—and he was the size of one of Tobey's giant robots. In the folds of his now pool-sized paper hat was a man WordGirl cringed to recognize. He had several plastic brains taped to his head and he shouted in a shrill voice, "Yes! Go forth, my amazing creation! Muhaha!"

"Glen Furlblam?" WordGirl exclaimed in disbelief. "What in the world is going on?! How did Lil' Mittens get so huge? And what does it have to do with Dr. No-Brains?"

"That's a bit mean," commented the Narrator.

WordGirl sighed and said, "I know. Sorry, I'm just running on a kinda short fuse today, and I think Tobey's sense of humor is starting to—"

"MEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!" Lil' Mittens bellowed, though WordGirl got the sense it would have been nothing but a cute little 'mew' had he been his rightful size. The noise was so booming that several nearby windows shattered. The kitten swiped a paw at an outdoor toy display and demolished the building's front entrance in the process.

Glen Furlblam belted out another irritating laugh. "That's right! Fear me! I am the great and powerful Dr. Four-Brains! Bow before me!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, is _everyone_ acting imperious today?" WordGirl flung out her hands in exasperation, paused for a moment, then looked up and asked, "Well?"

"Well what?" asked the Narrator.

"Isn't someone gonna prompt me to define 'imperious'?"

"Oh, that's not necessary. We covered it in the chapter title."

"What?" WordGirl looked a little hurt. "You mean I've been using that word all this time and now I don't even get to define it? That's my one job! …You know, besides stopping villains and saving the city, that is."

The Narrator unsympathetically replied, "Oh, gee, what does it feel like for someone to steal your one job?"

WordGirl relented with a sigh. "Okay, I get it. Sorry for taking your lines."

"Thank you."

She clasped her hands and looked up into the sky wearing the sweetest begging face she could muster. "Now can you please help me out with this"—she made a bewildered face and gestured with her hand out toward the bizarre villain/cat duo—"confusing mess in front of me?"

"Well, I can do a flashback."

"Ooh, that would be perfect!"

"All right, then." He cleared his throat, then theatrically announced, "Minutes earlier, in Dr. Two-Brains' secret lair…"

« « « « « … » » » » »

"What's this? I said 'parsnips!' PAR-SNIPS!" Dr. Two-Brains yelled at his henchmen, gesturing to a giant crate full of soft green leaves. "Do these look like parsnips to you?"

"Woops," said the shorter henchman. "Sorry, Boss, I coulda sworn you said 'catnip.'" Beside him, Charlie averted his eyes and nervously touched his index fingers together.

The Doctor's eye twitched. "Catnip? You're telling me that I'm standing next to a crate full of _catnip_?"

"Um…" He looked up at Charlie, then back at his boss and drawled gingerly, "Is that… bad?"

Dr. Two-Brains took a step back from the crate, then blasted at the top of his lungs, "My grow ray runs on parsnips! You know that already! I have one crate right over there in the corner and the last thing I said before you left the lair was that I needed another one! Why would I send you to buy something that attracts—?!"

"Meow."

The doc froze—his eyes suddenly the size of golf balls. He whirled around to face the open door leading into the lair and saw a small orange kitten trotting in, headed for the crate.

"C-C-C—Ca-Ca-Ca—CAAAAAAT!"

He slammed the lid back on the crate and sprung up on top of it. "Henchmen! Get rid of it! Quick!"

"Aw, but he's so cute!" the henchman who wasn't Charlie argued with hearts in his eyes. Charlie smiled and scooped the critter up, tickling its tummy.

"It's not cute!" yelled Two-Brains. "It's a cat! Get it out of here! NOW!"

"Oh, but Boss…"

"Dr. Two-Brains," shouted an irate voice, and who should march angrily through the open lair door but Glen Furlblam. He was holding two cats in each arm while a fifth perched on his shoulder pawing at one of the plastic brains taped to his head. "I have a bone to pick with you!"

"Oh, no," Two-Brains said, swallowing and cringing on top of his crate. "Not _more_ cats!"

"Your henchmen bought up all the catnip," Glen accused. He dropped two of his cats so that he could point at the doc, and they quickly rushed at the crate and started pawing excitedly at it. Dr. Two-Brains shrieked in fear, shaking as he tried to stay as close to the middle of the crate lid as possible.

"How am I supposed to keep my pets happy without catnip, _huh?_ "

"You can have it! ALL of it," Dr. Two-Brains shouted. "Just get all these cats away from me!"

"Oh, great," Glen said with a smile, suddenly completely pacified. "Where is it?"

"In here," Two-Brains said, pointing down at the crate underneath him. He squealed and shrank back from a kitty paw that swiped up above the crate lid.

Glen was suddenly angry again. "Well, how am I supposed to get to it if you're sitting on top of it?"

"Get your flea-bitten terrors out of my lair and I'll give you the catnip!"

"Give me the catnip and I'll get my cats out of your lair."

"Are you sure we can't keep this one, Boss?" asked Henchman #1, fingering the tiny orange kitten Charlie was still holding. "He's so adorable!"

"Am I sure we can't keep a _cat_?" Dr. Two-Brains snipped, managing to drum up some anger in spite of his horror.

"I'm not getting any younger, here," Glen grumbled, impatiently tapping his foot.

"Yeah, and your little monsters aren't getting any further away from me, either!" Two-Brains argued.

"I could keep him outside the lair," said the henchman.

"Over my dead body!" said Dr. Two-Brains.

"What? But you just said I could have it!" said Glen.

"Not you, _him!_ " said Two-Brains.

"Meow." "Meow!" MEOW!" said three of the cats.

"!" gasped Charlie.

Lil' Mittens had jumped out of his arms and was scampering over to the grow ray.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"… And one thing led to another, and… voila," the Narrator finished, metaphorically gesturing to the giant kitten now ravaging the jewelry store.

"Really?" WordGirl asked, raising an eyebrow. "One thing led to another? What kind of lazy exposition is that? Isn't it your job as the narrator to tell me how that thing led to… _that?_ " WordGirl threw out her arms, _literally_ gesturing to the giant kitten ravaging the jewelry store.

"Well, you can imagine, can't you?" the Narrator asked. "I established all the key elements of the scene. Leaving a few blanks for your brain to creatively fill in is part of good storytelling."

"Yeah, but—"

"Look, do you want to hear a detailed breakdown of what led to Dr. Two-Brains yelling 'Someone shoot something already!' or do you want to go save Reginald from losing several million dollars worth of inventory?"

WordGirl looked down to see the poor, pompous store clerk down on his knees outside the store wailing at the sky, "WHY?! All my beautiful jewels! Curse the beast's juvenile feline attraction to anything shiny!"

"Good point," WordGirl acknowledged. She gave the Narrator a smile and a thumbs-up. "Thanks for the recap. Now it's time for me to go save the—!"

"Help!"

WordGirl paused, her heart seizing with concern. "Oh, no. That was Dad's voice!"

Judging by the general direction, it had come from her house. Tobey was there, of course, and she knew he was perfectly capable of protecting her home and anyone there if some danger were to appear… Just in case, though, she decided to pop in and check.

Civic duty forgotten, she arrived at her house, zipped inside and asked, "Dad?! What's wrong?"

"Oh, there you are, Beck-a-roo," her dad said with a smile. He was holding up a pair of rabbit-ear antennas with a cord leading over to Tobey and TJ's work area, and he didn't appear to be in any danger whatsoever. "I need you to do me a favor. My roast is going to burn if I don't get it out of the oven, and I can't leave this spot."

"A little higher, Mr. Botsford," Tobey said without taking his eyes off the screen attached to Dad's antennas. Dad obediently lifted them up onto his head so that they looked like actual rabbit ears.

"Perfect," Tobey announced, shooting a thumbs-up. "Now don't move a muscle!"

WordGirl swallowed a little jolt of annoyance and asked, "Dad, why did you offer to help Tobey and TJ with their project if you have a roast in the oven?"

"Well, I didn't exactly _offer_ to help," Dad answered with an awkward smile. "More like I got—um… Pumpkin, what's a word that means 'getting a task dumped on you that you didn't see coming and didn't sign up for'?"

WordGirl sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Coerced? Conscripted? Drafted?" She added sarcastically under her breath, "Kidnapped?"

"That's the one!" Dad said cheerfully with a smile. "I've been kidnapped."

"More to the left," ordered TJ. Dad took a step to the left, and TJ snapped, "No, not you, Dad! Bob!"

Becky blinked and looked across the room in the direction TJ pointed. She hadn't noticed before, but sure enough, there was Bob, squatting on top of a bookshelf between it and the ceiling, precariously holding out a _second_ pair of antennas. He chirped in incredulous indignation. He was already at the edge of the bookshelf, and if he moved any farther to his left, he'd fall off.

WordGirl shook her head in bewilderment, then turned to look at Tobey. "Wait… I thought you were working on a game station. What does that have to do with TV antennas?"

Tobey looked up at her with a self-important smile and pulled on the sides of his collar. "Oh, something brilliant, revolutionary, and far too complicated for me to explain right now. You'll just have to wait and see!"

From the way he said that, WordGirl got the impression he fancied she was bursting with anticipation. In reality, she was nearly on the verge of hoping this business venture would crash and burn just to teach Tobey's imperious ego a lesson.

"Oh, by the way, Darling," he added, looking up at her so sweetly that she forgot her frustration for a moment. "Are you finished with your superhero duties? We could really use some more help here."

She frowned, and the frustration came right back. That reminded her, though. "Oh, no! I still have to save the city!"

Bob immediately started chirping wildly for her to take him with her. One might have thought he was begging for rescue from the jaws of certain death from the fuss he made. An overreaction? Probably, but WordGirl could still sympathize.

"And of _course_ I'll need the assistance of my trusty sidekick," she announced.

Bob cheered and tossed aside his rabbit ears, then jumped excitedly into WordGirl's arms.

"Hey, no fair," TJ grumbled, hands on his hips. "We had him first!"

"Sorry TJ," WordGirl replied in an entirely unapologetic tone. "Captain Huggyface's duty to the peace and safety of our city takes priority over helping you two with your game station. Gotta go!"

As she jetted off, she heard her Dad shouting after her, "Wait, Becky! My roast!"

She sighed, jetted back, turned off the oven, and blasted once more into town. Her Dad's thanks faded to silence behind her as she gave her sidekick a hurried recap of the situation with Not-So-Lil'-Mittens.

Bob had changed into his CHF costume by the time they reached the jewelry store, and the giant kitten was nowhere to be seen. Just Reginald weeping as he despondently gathered up his scattered jewelry and held it to his bosom.

WordGirl blinked. "What? Where'd he go?"

The Narrator suddenly let loose a loud cough that sounded an awful lot like the word 'helicopter.'

WordGirl and Captain Huggyface looked at each other, then looked around, and Huggy chirped and pointed to the right. Sure enough, there was a helicopter dangling a very familiar giant plush bunny over a city park. Lil' Mittens was pawing up at the stuffed animal trying to reach it while Glen Furlblam yelled in protest from his crow's nest in the kitten's hat.

"No! Bad Kitty! You're not supposed to be playing with toys, you're supposed to be helping your master—that's _me_ , Dr. Four-Brains—take over the city!"

WordGirl ignored Dr. Four-Brain-Cells (she was still too peeved to be _perfectly_ nice) and zipped over to the helicopter, pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Big at the controls with Leslie as his co-pilot.

"Not to worry, WordGirl," he announced with a salute. "I will keep the kitty-cat busy while you figure out a way to stop him." He gave an awkward laugh and fondly added, "Are there any problems that fuzzy bunnies can't fix, Leslie?"

"I'm pretty sure my employment contract requires me to answer 'no,' Sir," Leslie replied in her usual unenthusiastic tone.

"Right you are, Leslie! Right you are."

"Mr. Big?" WordGirl greeted with a surprised smile. "Why are you helping save the city? You're a registered villain."

"That is true," he said exuberantly with a finger in the air, "but I'm also an extremely savvy and incidentally quite handsome businessman. I can't allow this kitten to run rampant doing untold damage to the city. If everyone suddenly has giant construction bills, no one will have any money to buy my products! Even mind-control can't make people buy something if they don't have any money. That's what Leslie says, anyway."

Leslie nodded and dryly offered, "It's a fundamental law of economics."

Huggy nodded his head in agreement while WordGirl blinked, unsure how to respond. She shouldn't have been surprised that Mr. Big's heroic act was selfishly motivated, but she still couldn't help feeling a bit moved by it.

"Well… gee, thanks, Mr. Big!"

"Not a problem, WordGirl. Take all the time you need. My giant fuzzy bunny could keep any kitten hypnotized with its huggable cuteness for at least—"

Lil' Mittens sprang up and managed to snag the stuffed bunny with his claws. The helicopter got jerked down by its attached tether and WordGirl gasped as Mr. Big was dragged suddenly out of her field of view. She looked down just in time to see Mr. Big and Leslie leap from the cockpit and deploy parachutes as the helicopter crashed in the empty park below. Lil' Mittens was already playing with the stuffed bunny and didn't notice the crash or his self-proclaimed 'master' yelling at him to go wreck the city some more.

Captain Huggyface shrieked in concern and WordGirl zapped over to the edge of the park where the parachutes had come down.

"Oh my goodness, are you two all right?" she asked the lumpy sprawled-out chutes that looked like puddles. The lumps wiggled toward the edges of the puddles and Mr. Big and his assistant crawled out.

"Right as rain, WordGirl," Mr. Big laughed as Leslie smoothed her disheveled hair and adjusted her crooked glasses. "Admittedly my plan to distract the giant kitten didn't prove to be as sustainable as I'd calculated, but not to worry! Where normal people see setbacks, businesspeople see opportunities!" He turned to his assistant and said, "Leslie, temporarily suspend production at our toy factories and convert them to manufacturing construction equipment, effective immediately!"

"Yes, sir," Leslie answered, jotting something down in a notebook.

WordGirl just floated there staring dumbly at them. She shouldn't have been surprised that Mr. Big's selfish act was selfishly motivated, but she still couldn't help feeling a bit flustered by it.

Captain Huggyface snapped her out of her stupor by lightly slapping her face and chirping loudly as he pointed to Lil' Mittens. The kitten had tossed the giant fuzzy bunny toy, knocking it quite literally out of the park, and he was now bounding toward the building on whose roof it had landed.

"You're right, Huggy," she said, nodding at him. "Looks like it's up to us to contain this feline menace. Okay, Lil' Mittens! Playtime is—!"

"Heeelp!"

"Oh, come on!"

She couldn't tell who the voice had belonged to this time, but she was pretty sure it had still come from her house.

"What's up?" she asked as she flashed into her living room a minute later. "I heard a call for help."

"That was me," said Scoops, raising his hand. WordGirl blinked and rubbed her eyes in surprise. She was certain Scoops hadn't been present when she was here less than five minutes ago. He was sitting at the coffee table beside Violet—who had also miraculously appeared—and the two of them had stacks of paper in front of them. Violet's was blank, while Scoops's was ruled.

" _Please_ , Becky, I need to be rescued!" he entreated, looking truly distressed.

"From what?" WordGirl asked.

Scoops got a horrified look on his face and said in a trembling voice, "Tobey wants me to write a…"—he paused to swallow—"terms and conditions agreement."

"An _airtight_ terms and conditions agreement!" Tobey stipulated from across the room where he and TJ were huddled together _way_ too close to the television. "It needs to hold up when I have my lawyers look at it." He took a dignified sip from the teacup in his hand while TJ took a sip from the lemonade that had somehow been refilled.

"Save me!" Scoops mouthed at WordGirl, his eyes bugging.

WordGirl just hovered there for a moment and stared at him, too stunned to speak. She glanced down at Violet, who unlike Scoops looked perfectly content in whatever project it was that she was hunched over.

"Are you working on something for Tobey too, Violet?" she dared to ask.

Violet smiled up at her and mildly yet proudly announced, "I'm designing a logo." She paused as if in thought for a moment, then asked, "Becky, what exactly is a logo?"

WordGirl sighed, then compliantly defined, "A logo is a graphic or symbol that identifies the work of a particular person or company so that it can be easily recognized."

Violet smiled, looking quite satisfied with that definition. "Oh, I see! It's symbolic."

"Higher, Dad," ordered TJ, and WordGirl looked up to see that Mr. Botsford was still in the same spot she'd left him, only now he was holding the rabbit ear antennas high above his head, arms stretched taut. He looked over in TJ's direction and got a dubious look on his face as he said, "I don't think I can get it any higher, Tiger."

"Can't you get a stool or something?" TJ grumbled.

"Not without moving from this spot," Dad answered, "which, you may recall, I've been expressly forbidden from doing."

"Hey, Becky," TJ said with a smile, turning to her. "Since you're here anyway, why don't you make yourself useful and get Dad a stool?"

WordGirl made a disgusted face while her sidekick groaned and smacked himself on the forehead.

"I've… gotta go," she said, forcing herself to stop there and not blather out all the other stuff she'd really like to say. It was almost a relief to know that there was a giant kitten out there that the city needed saving from. She felt kinda bad for Dad and Scoops, but they'd just have to fend for themselves for a while… at least until Lil' Mittens was dealt with. After that… well… she didn't have time to worry about that now. She had a giant kitten to deal with.

"Still procrastinating on confronting the issue, huh?" poked the Narrator as she flew back into town.

"I'm not procrastinating," she insisted. "Procrastinating is putting something off until later. I'm… prioritizing!"

"Sure you are," he muttered sarcastically.

"You know what's really funny, though?" she asked, partly just for the excuse to change the subject. "I've answered three calls for help today and _none_ of them have been that weird guy who's always looking for the police station."

Captain Huggyface chuckled into his palm.

They reached the street corner where Mr. Big's ill-fated distraction hung from the spire of a towering high-rise. Midway up the building, Lil' mittens was gradually clawing his way up, his booming MEW ripping through the air as he waggled his fuzzy tail. WordGirl fought the urge to exclaim in irrational girlish delight. She knew that the kitten was unintentionally threatening the safety of hundreds of people in his innocent pursuit of a toy, but still, something about the sight of that adorable thing climbing up a skyscraper couldn't help pushing all her buttons. He looked like a normal-sized cat climbing up a tree, or a giant monkey climbing up a… well, a skyscraper.

That second analogy wasn't the best since the image it brought to mind wasn't exactly 'cute,' but it did snap her out of her irrational reverie and get her mind back on track.

WordGirl closed her eyes and listened carefully, focusing on the building's interior. She gave a slight smile as she reported to Captain Huggyface, "They must have successfully evacuated the area in advance. I don't hear anyone in that building, which means we have a few minutes to plan our strategy while Lil' Mittens is busy scaling that skyscraper."

Huggy chirped with an inquisitive shrug and WordGirl replied, "Well, we obviously don't want to hurt him, but we definitely _do_ want to get him shrunk back down to to his rightful harmlessly huggable size." Without thinking, she grabbed her sidekick and hugged him tight, smiling and nuzzling his face.

She once again snapped back to reality when she heard a loud snapping of fingers right next to her ear. She opened her eyes and saw Huggy jabbing a thumb in the direction of the giant kitten with a wan smile.

"Oh, um, heh…" She felt a flush of embarrassment as she sheepishly shifted him once more onto her back, saying, "Sorry, Huggy. Being around Lil' Mittens just… makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you know?"

Huggy offered an understanding squeal and a dismissive flick of his wrist, then perked like he'd just had an idea and offered a suggestion.

"Great idea, Huggy!" WordGirl praised, resisting the urge to hug him again. "Since it was Dr. Two-Brains' grow ray that turned Lil' Mittens giant, our best bet for getting him turned small again is Dr. Two-Brains' shrink ray!"

Huggy nodded, beaming with pride.

WordGirl nodded back. "Okay, then we need to head back to the Secret Spaceship Hideout. Hopefully Dr. Two-Brains is still there…" Wilting a bit, she added, "and hopefully he's calmed down by now."

The superhero duo was back at their base in a flash, and WordGirl called out, "Hello? Dr. Two-Brains?"

She floated into the pony room and found the sought-after villain sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, legs crossed in a meditative pose. He was even steadily humming, "Ommmm… Ommmm…"

He looked up at her and greeted with a muted smile, "Oh, hello WordGirl. I was just doing my meditation routine for calming down my heart after I've had a cat episode. Thanks for taking care of that for me, by the way."

WordGirl blinked and shook her head. "Uh, you mean the giant cat thing?" She paused to sheepishly rub the back of her head. "I actually haven't, uh… finished dealing with that yet."

"What?!" Two-Brains exclaimed. His relaxed meditation pose went suddenly rigid and his mouse brain started to throb. He caught himself, however, and took a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes and muttered to himself, "No, calm down. It's okay. The cat is still miles away."

He snapped his gaze up at WordGirl and nervously asked, "The cat _is_ still miles away, right?"

"Yeah, he's still ravaging the city."

Dr. Two-Brains heaved a relieved sigh, but WordGirl hastily continued before he could say anything. "And that's exactly what I need your help with!"

"Forget it, WordGirl," he said, splaying a hand at her. "I'm not going anywhere near that monster. Darn thing makes Maria look like a yappy little lap dog."

"I'm not asking you to get near him," WordGirl clarified. "I just need to use your shrink ray to change him back to normal."

"You're asking me to give you my shrink ray?"

"Lend. And you can't tell me that wouldn't be a small price for knowing there isn't a giant rampaging kitten on the loose."

"We-ell, aren't _you_ the shrewd negotiator," Two-Brains chuckled approvingly. "All right, I'll let you use my shrink ray. One problem, though: it's out of fuel."

WordGirl gestured an unconcerned flick of her wrist. "Oh, that shouldn't be a problem. It runs on parsnips, right?"

Two-Brains shook his head. "The _grow ray_ runs on parsnips. Lucky for you, the shrink ray runs on something easier to find—baby carrots."

"Baby carrots?"

Two-Brains nodded. "Bingo! So, you just go get some baby carrots, WordGirl, and I'll contact my henchmen and tell them to bring out the shrink ray."

"Okay, that sounds like a plan," WordGirl said, nodding at Huggy who chirped his agreement. "Sit tight, Dr. Two-Brains. I'll be back with some baby carrots before you can say—"

"Hee—eee—lp!" belted a loud, frightened voice WordGirl recognized all too well.

She stared up into the sky and moaned incredulously, "You have got to be _kidding_ me!"

"That's a weird example," Two-Brains muttered.

"Who is it this time?" asked the Narrator.

"It's that weird guy who's always looking for the police station!"

Huggy groaned in exasperation and wilted into a mass of dangling limbs over WordGirl's shoulder. She considered for a moment, then shook her head and said, "You know what? No! I'm a superhero on a mission! I have to find baby carrots so I can save the city from a giant rampaging kitten! Someone else can tell that guy where the police station is. I mean, it's not like there isn't someone whose _one job_ is to tell people things they need to know."

"Oh, you are a sneaky little thing, aren't you?" quipped the Narrator.

WordGirl shot a wily smile at the ceiling, then jetted off to the grocery store.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"What do you mean there's no baby carrots?!" WordGirl exclaimed.

"In case you haven't noticed," grumbled a disheveled grocery store owner, "My store was just attacked by a giant cat!"

He righted a crate, knocking aside a few of the cabbages that had managed to stay inside, then started picking up the heads and tossing them back into the crate.

"Yeah, but—he wasn't eating the vegetables," protested WordGirl.

The man heaved a flustered sigh and shortly said, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, we ran out _before_ the cat showed up. Had 'em on sale since Tuesday and they went like hotcakes. We've got plenty of regular-sized carrots, though, in three delicious colors!"

WordGirl slumped her shoulders while Captain Huggyface sighed as if he were reading her mind. She gave him a barely hopeful look, he nodded, and she pulled out her Official WordGirl Mobile Phone™ and dialed her Super Secret Spaceship Hideout. She wondered if Dr. Two-Brains would pick up and was both relieved and irritated when he did—relieved because she didn't have to fly back there _again_ , and irritated because it meant he was making himself a little _too_ at home.

"Yello?"

"Hey, Doc, it's WordGirl," she greeted. "Is there any chance regular carrots would work?"

"Nope," he predictably replied. "Has to be baby carrots."

"Of course it does," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, what did you expect? It's a shrink ray."

WordGirl couldn't imagine what _that_ had to do with anything on a scientific level, but she decided not to waste time mentioning it. "All right, I'll figure it out. See you."

She hung up and turned once more to her faithful sidekick. "Well, Huggy, I guess we're just going to have to find some baby carrots.

Huggy wilted, then smiled suddenly, like he'd just remembered something. He started chittering wildly, pointing into town, and WordGirl gasped happily in response. "Oh, good work, Huggy! That's just what we need! Word up!"

She jetted off and momentarily arrived back at her house… again. She steeled herself to ignore whatever was going on with Tobey and TJ and focus on the task at hand. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought, taking a deep breath as she flew inside.

"HEEE-EEELP!"

Of course, it was borderline impossible to ignore something like _that_.

In the seat across from TJ was none other than that weird guy with the ponytail who was always looking for the police station. He flailed his arms around as he exclaimed his plea, and this earned him a wrathful scowl from TJ.

"A- _hem_ , focus please," TJ demanded, pointing insistently at a lineup of cardboard boxes on the table in front of him. They appeared to be full of cables, computer components, and various mechanical parts.

The guy started—or rather, resumed?—fishing through the mess in the box, but he looked pleadingly up at WordGirl and explained, "I was just looking for the police station to tell them about the giant kitten invasion and I suddenly got kidnapped and forced into doing manual labor!"

"Kidnapped? Forced?" Tobey repeated, sounding offended as he looked up from the computer chip in front of him and removed his goggles. He pointed at the guy with his soldering iron and imperiously said, "What a way to describe the opportunity to witness greatness in the making and even assist in the process of making it! Now hurry up and find that coaxial signal splitter. I still need an auxiliary shrinkatron modulator and a three and three quarters centicubit hexagonal washer."

"This is most definitely _not_ the police station," Pony Police Guy sobbed.

WordGirl blinked and raised a hand to her mouth. Every other time she'd come home to find the latest victim of Tobey and TJ's ego trip she'd felt frustrated and annoyed, but now… well she wasn't proud of it, of course, but she had to exercise considerable restraint just to keep from laughing.

 _Focus, WordGirl,_ she reminded herself. _You_ _'re on a mission, remember?_

She shook her head and deliberately floated past Tobey and TJ, past Violet still happily doodling away, and past Scoops sweating as he pored over a legal dictionary and babbled half-intelligible definitions of judicial terms.

She approached her dad, who was now holding up _two_ pairs of rabbit antennas. "Da—" she started, suddenly remembering Ponytail Guy and glancing nervously in his direction. "Da—ctylogram is a fancy word for a fingerprint… in case anybody was, you know, curious." She chuckled weakly.

"Wow, I never knew that," Dad exclaimed. "What an interesting word."

WordGirl grinned sheepishly, then asked, "So, uh, Mr. Botsford, do you have any more baby carrots?"

Her dad wobbled a bit, regained his balance, then shot her a confused look. "What do you need baby carrots for, Beck—I mean WordGirl?"

"It's a long story," she replied. "Short version: I need them to save the city. Do we have any more?"

Dad gave a good-natured chuckle. "Whoa, I never thought baby carrots would be so important. Sorry, Sweet Pea—I mean _WordGirl_ —but I put all the baby carrots I bought in my roast." He glanced over to the kitchen and his smile instantly wilted. "My beautiful dinner roast that I… worked all morning to prepare… and that is now sitting in the oven getting cold… while everyone is too busy to enjoy it." He looked like he might start crying at any moment.

The sight tugged at WordGirl's heartstrings and she gently cooed, "It's okay Da—uh, I mean—it's okay good sir whose family I am certainly not a part of. It was made with lots of love, so I'm sure it will still taste delicious."

Dad sniffled and smiled at her. "You're right, WordGirl. Thank you. I feel better now."

"A little to the right, Dad," TJ called from across the room.

Dad moved one of his pairs of antennas and TJ snapped, "Not that one, the other one!"

Dad made a forced-looking smile and gently retorted, "Well, son, you didn't exactly specify." He jerked the other antennas in the direction indicated, and his face morphed into a grumpy pout that his family rarely got to see.

WordGirl sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled out her phone. As it rang, she made a silent commitment to deal with this out-of-hand fiasco as soon as she had taken care of Giant Mittens.

"Hey, WordGirl," answered Dr. Two-Brains. "Did'ja find some baby carrots?"

"Um, about that," she muttered gingerly, "Can the baby carrots be roasted?"

"I can't guarantee it won't mutate the cat," said Two-Brains.

At that the irate voice of The Butcher yelled through the speaker, "WordGirl, you'd _better not_ roast my Lil' Mittens or I'll turn you into a roast! …Or, bury you in roast, at least."

"Butcher? Are you at my secret hideout?" WordGirl exclaimed.

Dr. Two-Brains made what sounded like an exasperated sigh and said, "He's a childhood friend of one of my henchmen. Also, he's apparently the owner of that c-c- that _creature_ you're trying to deal with. One thing led to another, and here he is."

"Et tu, Two-Brains?" WordGirl grumbled. "I tell you, the phrase 'one thing led to another' should be rejected from the English language as an acceptable form of explanation!"

She frowned up at the ceiling, copying her dad's grumpy pout.

"What are you looking at _me_ for?" rebuffed The Narrator.

WordGirl grumbled and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, never mind. I just need to find some uncooked baby carrots before—"

"Oh!" Dad exclaimed out of nowhere with a hearty belly laugh. "Silly me, I forgot! I put a few baby carrots aside so I could slice them up and put them on the salad. They're in the back of the fridge on the right."

WordGirl beamed gratefully. She zipped into the kitchen and snagged the coveted vegetables, then was back at her dad's side in a flash saying, "Oh, thank you, Da—Sir!"

"Happy to help!" He nodded cheerfully with a wink.

"Now I just need to get back to Dr. Two-Brains and—"

The front door flew open with a _slam_ , revealing an irate-looking Captain Huggyface. Through the door, a taxi could be seen driving away from the house. He marched right up to WordGirl, but before he could start, she preemptively said, "Oh gosh! I left you at the grocery store, didn't I?"

He folded his arms and gave her a sharp nod.

"I'm sorry, Huggy," she said. She was being sincere, but she also needed to move things along, so she quickly added, "But look on the bright side. Getting left at the grocery store is better than being stuck here with Team Imperious, right?"

She wagged a thumb into the living room, and her sidekick looked over at Tobey and TJ's disgruntled labor force. He cringed, nodded, and jumped on WordGirl's back. All was forgiven.

« « « « « … » » » » »

"Okay, Dr. Two-Brains," WordGirl gasped as she and Huggy arrived back at their spaceship hideout. "I got baby carrots."

The doc, his two henchmen, and The Butcher were all sitting around her Pretty Princess table playing cards. In the middle of the table was a pile of meat and cheese. They all looked up at her in unison and The Butcher asked with a serious frown, "You got the kind that definitely won't mutate my sweet Lil' Mittens, right? "

"Sure did," WordGirl said proudly, holding up the baby carrots like a trophy.

The Butcher gave a pacified smile and went back to the game. "Okay, Charlie, I see your three hot dogs and I raise you a string cheese."

Charlie's mouth fell open and he started sweating as he studied his own cards.

Captain Huggyface stared at the table with stars in his eyes and tried to make a leap for it, but WordGirl snatched him out of the air and said, "Forget it, Huggy. We've got a city to save, remember?" He looked disappointed as she turned to Dr. Two Brains and asked, "Do you have the shrink ray?

"Right here," he said, holding up the gun she recognized from when he'd shrunk _her_. "Trade?"

Smiling, WordGirl tossed him the baby carrots, which he caught and loaded into a hatch on the back of the shrink ray. Then he closed the hatch and tossed the shrink ray to WordGirl.

"All right, Huggy," she announced as she snatched the shrink ray out of the air. "Let's go cut that kitty down to size!"

"Be gentle!" the Butcher called urgently after her as she took off once more for the City.

"MEEEEEEEEWWWWW," bellowed the playful roar of a happy kitten. He had finally reached the top of the skyscraper and started pawing at the plush bunny impaled on its spire.

"YES!" Shouted Glen Furlblam, pumping his arms in the air. "I'm on top of the world! Bow before me, puny humans!"

WordGirl hefted the shrink ray and confidently announced, "All right, Dr. Mittens-for-Brains! Your days of terrorizing jewelry and grocery stores are over!"

She fired, the ray blasted, and within seconds Lil' Mittens was little again. He lost his grip on the building and gave a squeaky 'mew' as he fell toward the ground.

"Oh no!" WordGirl shouted on instinct. She flashed toward him and scooped him out of the air, safe and sound. Huggy heaved a sigh of relief and gave her a thumbs up while the adorable kitten looked up at her with sparkling eyes. She just about died from cuteness overload and reflexively snuggled him close to her face.

"There, there," she cooed as the kitten purred in her hands. "You're safe now, lil' guy."

"Unhand my minion, WordGirl!" ordered a tiny voice. WordGirl's eyes popped open and she glanced down at the paper hat Lil' Mittens was wearing. Lo and behold, there was Glen Furlblam, reduced to the size of a GELO minifigure.

"AWWWWW!" WordGirl squealed. "He's so tiny and cute now!"

"I'm not cute! I'm fierce and powerful," Glen squeaked. "I'm warning you! Obey me or face the wrath of the mighty Dr. Four-Brains!"

Captain Huggyface reached over and plucked him from Lil' Mittens' hat, much to his vehement and entirely ineffective protest, then stuck him in a pocket of his utility belt and gave WordGirl a thumbs-up.

"Well," she said, shouldering the shrink ray, "That was anticlimactic."

"At least it's over," muttered the Narrator.

"Yeah," WordGirl muttered wistfully. She would be more happy about it if it didn't mean she had to go home and deal with Tobey and TJ now.

Resisting the urge to sigh, she looked to Huggy and said, "Well, I guess we'd better get this lil' guy to the Butcher, get _that_ little guy to Dr. Two-Brains so he can grow him back to his regular size, and then get the whole lot of them out of our secret hideout. Shouldn't take too long, right?"

Huggy raised his eyebrows at her and made a funny sound. Now that there was no imminent threat to the city, she flew a lot slower than she needed to toward her spaceship. Thinking out loud, she mused, "Do you think there's any chance that things back at the house will resolve _themselves_ before I get home?"

Huggy shrugged, and the Narrator snickered.

« « « « « … » » » » »

WordGirl arrived at the Botsford House and surreptitiously flitted into her room through the window. Huggy hopped onto the bed and they changed out of their superhero attire. Becky sighed as she glanced over at the door, cringing in anticipation of the task at hand. She really didn't want to go downstairs and put TJ and Tobey in their place. It was hard enough to deal with just _one_ of them. But a promise was a promise, so she took a deep breath and resolutely marched out of her room.

When she reached the living room, she was met with quite the surprise. The work area that Tobey and TJ had annexed was deserted—all the doodads and technical components they'd been working on packed haphazardly into cardboard boxes. The couch had been returned to its regular place across the room from the television, and Scoops, Violet, and Pony Police Guy were all sitting together watching the news story about the kitten fiasco WordGirl had just wrapped up. Just to the right of the TV, a flustered-looking Tobey was holding up a pair of rabbit ear antennas.

"A little to the left," Scoops instructed with a wave and a satisfied smile. Tobey grudgingly obliged, and the fuzzy image on the TV cleared up a bit.

"Ooh! And could I get some more popcorn?" asked Pony Police Guy, holding up an empty bowl.

Tobey sighed, pulled a remote from his pocket, and pushed a button. A little robot waddled into the room making popping sounds as it approached the couch, then it opened its chest and dumped a serving of popcorn into the empty bowl.

Becky blinked, dumbfounded. She looked questioningly down at Bob, but he looked just as confused as she was.

"Okay, Sport," said Dad's voice, calling Becky's attention to the kitchen. "I need a clove of garlic from the pantry, an onion from the fridge, and a sprig of fresh parsley from my miniature herb garden in the back yard.

"Dad, I thought dinner was already made," complained TJ, who was standing next to him. "Why are you making _more?_ "

Dad answered with a good-natured smile, "Well, TJ, since the roast got cold and needs to be reheated, I need to make my special Leftovers Sauce to help compensate for the lack of freshness."

TJ groaned, and Sally Botsford's signature arresting ' _ahem_ ,' sounded in response. Becky only now noticed Mom sitting at the dining room table sipping a cup of coffee.

"TJ," she said sternly.

"Yes, Dad," TJ conceded, slumping his shoulders and moping off.

Becky was quiet for a beat, then tentatively muttered, "Um… did I miss something?"

"Boy, _did_ you!" Scoops exclaimed from the living room. "Mrs. Botsford got home, saw what was going on, and held a family trial right on the spot."

Violet calmly added, "Tobey and TJ were convicted of coercion, unlawful detainment, and excessively imperious behavior."

"What?" Becky shouted, hands flying to her face. "I missed a family trial?"

Scoops nodded. "Yup! And I'll tell ya, it was headline-worthy! They were sentenced to two hours of community service," Scoops happily added, gesturing for Tobey to lower his antennas.

Tobey obliged with a groan and grumbled, "Becky, why didn't you tell me this could happen?"

Becky met his eyes, ambivalent. She would have thought she'd feel relieved and completely justified—and she _did_ —but she also felt just a tiny bit guilty. The look on Tobey's face was not indignation or affront, but genuine disappointment. Tobey wasn't used to the way the Botsfords did things, so she supposed it really was a bit of a failure on her part not to prepare him.

She opened her mouth, still not quite sure what to say, when Mom suddenly spoke up. "Now, Tobey, it's not Becky's job to remind you about common courtesy."

"Besides," added Dad, "Being an honorary member of the family means you have all the privileges _and_ responsibilities that come with being a Botsford. That includes being subject to family trials." He playfully waved his wooden spoon in Tobey's direction, then returned to stirring his pot and humming a happy tune.

Tobey heaved a resigned sigh and muttered under his breath, "Yes, sir." He aimed one last sad frown at Becky, then sighed and closed his eyes. Becky suddenly felt a bit self-conscious for some reason, so she quietly made her way back up to her room.

Bob followed her inside, and she took that as permission to get her thoughts out.

"It's weird, Bob," she said. "I was so reluctant to confront Tobey and TJ about their behavior, but now that Mom's taken care of it _for_ me, I sort of feel like I failed somehow… Or maybe more like there's still something I need to do? I don't know."

Bob shrugged and chattered a response. Becky sighed.

"Yeah, I think they _did_ learn their lesson," she said. "They seemed pretty humble about accepting their punishment. That was surprising, actually. With how imperious they were acting earlier, I would have thought their egos would make it impossible for them to realize they did anything wrong. That was why I was so hesitant to talk to them about it."

She stared off into space, her mind wandering to the Lil' Mittens catastrophe that had kept her busy for most of Tobey and TJ's ego trip. She contemplatively touched her chin and started thinking out loud. "Maybe egos are like kittens… If they get too big, they run amok and cause all kinds of problems, but once they get shrunk back down to the right size, it's okay to stroke them a little."

Bob regarded her with a raised brow and an amused chuckle, but then he just shrugged in a good-natured gesture of 'yeah, maybe.'

Becky smiled and got up from her bed to sit down at her desk. "In that case, maybe there _is_ something more I can do."

She grabbed a pencil and two pieces of stationary, then began to write.

_Dear Tobey,_

_Don_ _'t get discouraged. Humbling yourself and submitting to consequences is hard, but your willingness to do it says something awesome about you. For what it's worth, I want you to know that I'm proud of you._

_Sincerely, Becky_

Becky grinned at her work. It was short, simple, and sweet, just like she'd intended. She turned to the other paper and copied the letter, substituting Tobey's name for TJ's and adding a teasing little quip at the end. She turned to Bob, who had hopped up on her chair and was reading over her shoulder.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Bob gave her a thumbs-up.

"Great! Thanks."

She sealed the letters in two matching little purple envelopes, then slipped carefully out her bedroom window. A moment later she'd found TJ in the backyard snipping parsley. Landing behind him, she tapped his shoulder and held out an envelope. "Here, TJ. This is for you."

Her brother eyed the letter lethargically, then sighed and took it from her.

"Thanks," he said, unenthusiastically but not insincerely, and he stuffed the envelope in his pocket and headed inside. Becky smiled and followed him. He would read it later, and hopefully it would do him some good.

Once in the kitchen, they went their separate ways. TJ went to deliver Dad's sauce ingredients while Becky headed into the living room to deliver her second letter.

Tobey looked somberly up at her as she approached, still stuck by the TV holding up the antennas. She levitated over the television and dropped down beside him with a warm grin on her face. "Here, Tobey," she said, sticking the envelope behind his ear so that it was held in place by the temple of his glasses. "This is for you."

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on then cheek, then trotted off toward the stairs before he had a chance to respond. Once upstairs, though, she closed her eyes and focused on him with her super-hearing. He didn't say anything, but his heartbeat got a little faster, and that never failed to put a smile on Becky's face. She stepped inside her room wearing that smile and feeling quite pleased with herself.

"Well, all's well that ends well, right, Bob?" she announced. "The city is safe from being destroyed by a giant cat and Tobey and TJ learned a valuable lesson."

Bob gave her a wry smile and challengingly asked her what _she_ learned.

Becky's exuberance wilted, but only slightly, and she was surprised how easy the answer came. "That I shouldn't procrastinate, for one," she said. "But I think I also learned something about Tobey and TJ."

"What's that?" asked the Narrator.

"That there are lots of ways to shrink things," she replied. "Sometimes it takes baby carrots. Sometimes it takes kind words and consequences."

« ... »

_For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you._

— _Romans 12:3_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**-** _**Meowthra** _ **— Lil** **' Mittens is a stray kitten that The Butcher adopted in 'Meat With A Side of Cute' and then promptly fell head-over-heels in love with. The giant cat thing is sort of a nod to The LEGO Ninjago Movie, which you really ought to see if you haven't already. -VERY MINOR SPOILER WARNING- In that movie it was actually a regular-sized cat running rampant in a world full of tiny LEGO people, but the effect was basically the same—all the way down to the villain acting like this cat is his key to conquering the city when it was really just an accident and he doesn't even have control of the dang thing. XP**

 **-** _**Grow and Shrink Rays** _ **— These were from the episode** **'Shrinkin' in the Ray' where Dr. Two-Brains built a shrink ray and a grow ray. He revealed that the fuel for the grow ray was parsnips, but he didn't say what powered the shrink ray. He just said shrinking things was 'easy.' I chose baby carrots as a veggie fuel that was both thematically fun and reasonably easy to come by. :)**

 **-** _**'One Thing Led to Another'** _ **— This is a reference to a sketch by Brian Regan, one of my favorite comedians. Look up** **'Brian Regan One Thing Led to Another' and you should be able to find it. ;P**

 **-** _**Maria** _ **— This is the name of the Energy Monster as revealed in** _**'Dinner or Consequences,'** _ **which also revealed that she can be quite the chatterbox when she actually has the ability to talk.**

 **-** _**3 Colors?** _ **— If the grocery store owner** **'s mention of having carrots in three colors was confusing to you, do an image search for 'rainbow carrots.' ;)**

 **-** _**The Butcher Knows Charlie** _ **— This, believe it or not, is canon. ;P It** **'s revealed in the episode 'The Fill-In,' when The Butcher shows DTB a photo of him and Charlie together as small children.**

 **-** _**Family Trial** _ **— This adorable canon nugget was established in** **'Dinner or Consequences.' Apparently the Botsfords have a long tradition of holding trials within their family to settle petty domestic disputes. I wouldn't be at all surprised if that accounts at least partly for Sally's vocation of choice. :P**


End file.
